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THE MARVELOUS PROGRESS OF THE 19TH CENTURY 

The above symbolic picture, after the master painting of Paul Sinibaldi. explains the secret of the wonderful progress of the pasl 
100 years. The genius of Industry stands in the centre. To her right sits Chemistry ; to the leit the geniuses of Elec- 
tricity with the battery, the telephone, the electric light ; there also are the geniuses of Navigation with the 
propeller, and of Literature and Art, all bringing their products to Industry who passes them 
through the hands of Labor in the foreground to be fashioned for the use of mankind. 



THIS ACHIEVEMENTS OP ONE HUNDRED YEARS 



The Marvelous Record 

of the Closing Century 



Embracing Descriptions of the Decisive Battles of the Century and the Great Soldiers Who 
Fought Them ; the Rise and Pall of Nations ; the Changes in the Map of the World, and the 
Causes Which Contributed to Political and Social Revolutions ; Discoverers and Discoveries ; 
Explorers of the Tropics and Arctics; Inventors and Their Inventions; the Growth of Liter- 
ature, Science and Art ; the Progress of Religion, Morals and Benevolence in All Civilized Nations. 



By CHARLES MORRIS, LL.D. 

Author of "The Aryan Kacc." "Civilization. Its History. Etc.." "The Greater Republic." Bee. 



Embellished With Nearly 100 Full-Fane Half-Tone Fngravincis, Illus- 
trating the Greatest Events of the Century, and 100 Portraits of the 
Most Famous Men in the World. 



AMERICAN BOOK & BIBLE HOUSE, 

PHILADELPHIA, PA. 



73148 

NOV 9 1900 

CopyrtgM mtry 

CLu^. '. ><i°' 



1 sttvw copy. 

8«ll««r«rf to 

0KDt« DIVISION, 






si 



ft 
ft 
§ 



(fc 







entered according to Act of Congress In the year 1899, by 

W. E. SOTJXIj, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



Ai.l. KIGB7S KE8BMTBD. 







=§&3§£§®a®§999ssi 



LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 

Introduction TAC , 

\ Bird's-eye View — Tyranny and Oppression in the Eighteenth Century — Government 
and the Rights of Man in 1900 — Prisons and Punishment in 1900 — The Fact 
System and Oppression of the Workingman — Suffrage and Human Fi 
Criminal Law and Prison Discipline in 1S00 — The Era of Wonderful Inventions — 
The Fate of the Morse and the Sail — Education, Discovery and Commerce. ... 23 

CHAP! PR I 

The Threshold of the Century 

The Age We Live in and its Great Events— True History and the Things Which Make It 
— Two of the World's Greatest Events — The Feudal System and Its Abuses — The 
Climax of Feudalism in France — The States General is Convened — The Fall of the 
tille — King and Queen Under the Guillotine — The Reign of Terror — The Wars of 
the French Revolution — Napoleon in ttalj I ',' I gland as a Centre of 
Industry and Commerce — The Condition of the German States — Dissension in Italy 
and Decay in Spain — The Partition of Poland by the Robber Nations — Russia and 
Turkey 33 

CHAPTER II 
Napoleon Bonaparte ; The Man of Destiny 

\ Remarkable and Wonderful Career — The Enemies and Friends of France — Move- 
ments of the Armies in Germany and Italy —Napoleon Crosses the Alps at St. 
Bernard Pass— The Situation in Italy — The Famous Field of Marengo — A Great 
I 'tie Lost and Won — The Result of the Victory of Marengo —Napoleon Returns to 
France -Moreau and the Great Rattle of Hohenlinden — The Peace of Luneville — 
'lb' ' Amiens — The Punishment of the 1 tors and the Assassinati 
of the Duke d' Enghien— Napoleon Crowned Emperor of the French — The Great 
Works Devised Ry the New Emperor 4 , 

CHAPTER III 
Europe in the Grasp of the Iron Hand 

it Preparations for the Invasion of England — Rapid March on Austria — The Sur- 
render of General Mack — The Eve Before Austerlitz — The Dreadful Fake Horror — 
Treaty of Peace With Austria — Prussian Armies in the Field — Defeat of the Prussians 
at Jena and Auerstadt — Napoleon Divides the Spoils of Victory— The Frightful 
Struggle at Eylau— The Cost of Victory —The Total Defeat of the Ru The 

Emperors at Tilsit and the Fate of Prussia— The Pope a Captive at : bleau — 

Andreas Hofer and the War in Tyrol— Napoleon Marches Upon Austria — The 

(5) 



6 LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 

PAG» 

Battle of Eckmuhl and the Capture of Ratisbon — The Campaign in Italy — The 
Great Struggle of Essling and Aspern — Napoleon Forced to His First Retreat — The 
Second Crossing of the Danube — The Victory at Wagram — The Peace of Vienna — 
The Divorce of Josephine and Marriage of Maria Louisa 57 

CHAPTER IV 

The Decline and Fail of Napoleon's Empire 

The Causes of the Rise and Decline of Napoleon's Power — Aims and Intrigues in Por- 
tugal and Spain — Spain's Brilliant Victory and King Joseph's Flight — The Heroic 
Defence of Saragossa — Wellington's Career in Portugal and Spain — The Invasion of 
Russia by the Grand Army — Smolensk Captured and in Flames — The Battle of 
Borodino — The Grand Army in the Old Russian Capital — The Burning of the Great 
City of Moscow — The Grand Army Begins its Retreat — The Dreadful Crossing of 
the Beresina — Europe in Arms Against Napoleon — The Battle of Dresden, Napo- 
leon's Last Great Victory — The Fatal Meeting of the Armies at Leipzig — The Break- 
up of Napoleon's Empire — The War in France and the Abdication of the Emperor — 
Napoleon Returns From Elba — The Terrible Defeat at Waterloo — Napoleon Meets 
His Fate 83 

CHAPTER V 
Nelson and Wellington, the Champions of England 

England and France on Land and Sea — Nelson Discovers the French Fleet in Aboukir 
Bay — The Glorious Battle of the Nile — The Fleet Sails for Copenhagen — The Danish 
Line of Defence — The Attack on the Danish Fleet — How Nelson Answered the 
Signal to Cease Action — Nelson in Chase of the French Fleet — The Allied Fleet 
Leaves Cadiz; — Off Cape Trafalgar — The "Victory" and Her Brilliant Fight — The 
Great Battle and its Sad Disaster — Victory for England and Death for Her Famous 
Admiral — The British in Portugal — The Death of Sir John Moore — The Gallant 
Crossing of the Douro — The Victory at Talavera and the Victor's Reward — Welling- 
ton's Impregnable Lines at Torres Vcdras — The Siege and Capture of the Portuguese 
Fortresses — Wellington Wins at Salamanca and Enters Madrid — Vittoria and the 
Pyrenees — The Gathering of the Forces at Brussels — The Battlefield of Waterloo — 
The Desperate Charges of the French — Blucher's Prussians and the Charge of 
Napoleon's Old Guard 101 

CHAPTER VI 
From the Napoleonic Wars to the Revolution of 1830 

A Quarter Century of Revolution — Europe After Napoleon's Fall — The Work of the 
Congress — Italy, France and Spain — The Rights of Man — The Holy Alliance — Revo- 
lution in Spain and Naples— Metternich and His Congresses — How Order Was 
Restored in Spain — The Revolution in Greece — The Powers Come to the Rescue of 
Greece — The Spirit of Revolution — Charles X. and His Attempt at Despotism — The 
Revolution in Paris — Louis Phillippe Chosen as King — Effect in Europe of the Revo- 
lution — The Belgian Uprising and its Result — The Movements in Germany — The 
Condition of Poland — The Revolt of the Poles— A Fatal Lack of Unity — The Fate 
of Poland ............ ........... . . . 1*6 



LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 7 

CHAPTER VII 
Bolivar, the Liberator of Spanish America rAn , 

tin Treated Her Colonies — The Oppression of the People — Bolivar the Revolu- 
tion. m- 1 eader— An Attempt at Assassination — Bolivar Returns to Venezuela— -The 
ige Cruelty of the Spaniards — The Methods of General Morillo — Paez the 
Guerilla and His Exploits — British Soldiers Join the Insurgents — Bolivar's Plan to 
Invade New Gran; e Crossing of the Andes — The Terror of the Mountains — 
Bolivar's Methods of Fighting — The Victory at Boyaca — Bolivar and the Peruvians — 
The Freeing of the Other Colonies 128 

CH U'TKR VIII 
Great Britain as a World Empire 

oleonic Wars' Influence — Great Awakening in Commerce — Developments of the Arts 
— Growth of the Scieni e \ Nation Noted for Patriotism — National Pride— Con- 
scious Strength — Political Changes and Their Influence — Great Statesmen of Eng- 
land ill 

CHAPTER IX 
The Great Reform Bill and the Corn Laws 

;es of Unrest — Demands ol tl — The Struggle for Reform in 1S30 — The Corn 
Laws — Free Trade in Great Britain — Cobden the Apostle of Free Trade — Other 
Promoters of Reform — England's I nlarged Commerce 147 

CHAPTER X 
Turkey the " Sick Man " of Europe 

Sultan's Empire in 1S00 — Revolts in Her Depi -Greece Gains Her I 
dom — The Sympathy of the Christian World — Russian Threats — The Crimean War 
and its Heroes — The War of 1877 — The Armenian Massacres — The Nations Warn 
off Russia — War in Crete and Greece in 1S97 — The Tottering Nation of to day — 
The "Sick Man " i 5 6 

CHAPTER XI 
The European Revolution of 1848 

upt Courts and Rulers — The Spirit of Liberty Among the People — Bourbonism — 
Outbreak in Frame — Spreads to Other Countries — The Struggle in 
In Germany— The Revolt in Hungary — The Career of Kossuth the Pal 
Statesman and < Irator — His Visit to America — Defeat of the Patriots by Austria and 
Hungary — General Haynan the Cruel Tyrant — Later History of Hungary 167 

CHAPTER XII 
Louis Napoleon and the Second French Empire 

Power of a Great Name — The French People Love the Name Napoleon — Louis 
Napoleon's Personality — Elected President— The Tricks of His Illustrious Ancestor 



LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 

Imitated — Makes Himself Emperor — The War With Austria — Sends an Army t< 
Mexico — Attempt to Establish an Empire in America — Maximilian Made Emperor h 
the New World — His Sad Fate — War With Germany — Louis Napoleon Dethroned . 



CHAPTER XIII 

Garibaldi and the Unification of Italy 

The Many Little States of Italy — Secret Movements for Union — Mazzini the Revoln 
tionist — Tyranny of Austria and Naples — War in Sardinia — Victor Emanuel an< 
Count Cavour — Garibaldi in Arms — The French in Rome — Fall of the Papal City- 
Rise of the New Italy — Naval War With Austria 

CHAPTER XIV 
Bismarck and the New Empire of Germany 

The State of Prussia — Sudden Rise to Power — -Bismarck Prime Minister — War With Den 
mark — With Austria — With France — Metz and Sedan — Von Moltke — The Fall o 
Paris — William I. Crowned Emperor — United Germany — Bismarck and the Younj 
Kaiser — Peculiarities of William II. — Germany of To-Day ........... 

CHAPTER XV 

Gladstone the Apostle of Liberalism in England 

Sterling Character of the Man — His Steady Progress to Power — Becomes Prime Ministe' 
— Home and Foreign Affairs Under His Administration — His Long Contest Witl 
Disraeli — Early Conservatism Later Liberalism — Home Rule Champion — Result o 
Gladstone's Labors 

CHAPTER XVI 

Ireland the Downtrodden 

Ancient Ireland — English Domination — Oppression — Patriotic Struggles Against English 
Rule — Robert Emmet and His Sad Fate — Daniel O'Connell — Grattan, Curran and 
Other Patriots — The Fenians — Gladstone's Work for Ireland — Parnell, the Irish 
Leader in Parliament — Ireland of the Present 

CHAPTER XVII 

England and Her Indian Empire 

Why England Went to India — Lord Give and the East India Company— Sir Arthur Wei- 
lesley — Trouble With the Natives — Subjugation of Indian States — The Great Mutiny— 
Havelock — Relief of Lucknow — Repulse From Afghanistan — Conquest of Burmah — 
Queen Victoria Crowned Empress of India— What English Rule Has Done for th« 
Orient — A Vast Country Teeming With Population —Its Resources and Its Prospects 



LIST Of CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 
CHAPTER XVIII 

Thiers, Gambetta and the Rise of the New French Republic 

ich Instability of Character — Modern Statesmen of France — Thiers — MacMahon — 
Gambetta — The New Republic — Leaders in Politics— Dangerous Powers of the 

Army — Moral and Religi I v and Justice — The Dreyfus Case as an 

Index to Frame's National Character and the Perils Which Beset the Republic . 

CHAPTER XIX 

Paul Kruger and South Africa 

iew of the Boers — Their Establishment in Cape Colony — The Rise and Progress of 
the Transvaal Republic — Diamond Mines and Gold Discoveries- Englam 
siveness — The Career of Cecil Rhodes — Attempt to Overthrow iblii I he 

Zulus and V oples — The Uitlanders — Political Struggle of England and 

Paul Kruger — Chamberlain's Demands — The Boers' Firm Stand — War of 1899 ... 295 

CHAPTER XX 

The Rise of Japan and the Decline of China 

iht 1 Surrounding These Two Nations — Ancient Civilizations — Closed 
Territory to I ' >utside World — Their Ignorance of Othei leaking 
Down of the Walls in the Nineteenth Century — Japan's Sudden Rise to Power — 
earn—The Yankees of the Ivtst — Conditions of Conservatism Holds on 
in China- Li Hung Chang Rises into Prominence — Ti □ Trouble — War Be- 
tween China and Japan — The Rattle ofYalu River — Admiral Ito's Victory — Japan* 
Army Invades the Celestial Empire — China Surrenders — European Nations Demand 
Open Commerce — Threatened Partition 309 

CHAPTER XXI 
The Era of Colonies 

mien e the Promoter of Colonization — England's Wise Policy — The Growth of Her 

Colonies Under Liberal Treatment — India — Australia — Africa— Colonies 1 

pud Germany — Partition of Africa — Progress of Russia in \ jressivene 

the Czar's G ivernment — The United States Becomes a Colonizing Power — The 

I ' il Powers and Their Colonies at the Close of the Century , 323 

CHAPTER XXII 

How the United States Entered the Century 

bwlj Formed Country Washington, the National Capital Peace With France — 
is of State Sovereignty — Stal id the National O The 

Influence of Washington — The Supreme Court and its I 

Than Four Millions — No City of 50,000 Inhabitants in Am ttled 
Country -Savages — Trouble With Algiers -War Dei lared by I I 'nomas Jeffer- 
son Elected President 343 



io LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 

CHAPTER XXIII 
Expansion of the United States From Dwarf to Giant 

Ohio Admitted in 1802 — Louisiana Purchased From French 1803 — Admission of the 
States — Florida Transferred to the United States 1819 — The First Railway in 1826 — 
Indians Cede Their Illinois Lands in 1830 — Invention of Telegraph 1832 — Fremont's 
Expeditions to the Pacific Slope — Conquest of Mexico — Our Domain Established 
From Ocean to Ocean 1848 — -The Purchase of Alaska From Russia 1867 — ■ 
Rapid Internal Growth — Cities Spring up on the Plains — A Marvelous Era of 
Peace — Through the Spanish-American War Comes the Acquisition of First Tropical 
Territory — From East to West America's Domain Reaches Half-way Around the 
World — Three Cities Each With Over 1,000,000 Inhabitants 

CHAPTER XXIV 
The Development of Democratic Institutions In America 

Colonization and its Results — Religious Influences — Popular Rights — Limitations— Colonial 
Legislatures — The Money Question — Taxation — Confederation — The Franchise — 
Property Qualifications — Growth of Western Ideas — Contrast Between Institutions at 
the Beginning and Close of the Century 

CHAPTER XXV 
America's Answer to British Doctrine of Right of Search 

Why the War of 181 2 Was Fought — The Principles Involved — Impressing American 
Sailors — Insults and Outrages Resented — The "Chesapeake" and "Leopard" — ■ 
Injury to Commerce — Blockades — Embargo as Retaliation — Naval Glory — Failure of 
Canadian Campaign — "Constitution" and the " Guerriere ' ' — The "Wasp" and 
the "Frolic" — Other Sea Duels — Privateers — Perry's Great Victory — Land Opera- 
tions — The "Shannon" and the "Chesapeake" — Lundy's Lane and Plattsburg — 
The Burning of Washington — Baltimore Saved — Jackson's Victory at New Orleans — 
Treaty of Peace 

CHAPTER XXVI 
The United States Sustains Its Dignity Abroad 

First Foreign Difficulty— The Barbary States — Buying Peace — Uncle Sam Aroused — 
Thrashes the Algerian Pirates — A Splendid Victory — King Bomba Brought to Terms 
— Austria and the Koszta Case— Captain Ingraham — His Bravery — "Deliver or I'll 
Sink You ' ' — Austria Yields — The Paraguayan Trouble — Lopez Comes to Terms — ■ 
The Chilian Imbroglio — Balmaceda — The Insult to the United States — American 
Seamen Attacked — Matta's Impudent Letter — Backdown — Peace — All's Well That 
Ends Well, Etc 

CHAPTER XXVII 

Webster and Clay — The Preservation of the Union 

The Great Questions in American Politics in the First Half of the Century — The Great 
Orators to Which They Gave Rise — Daniel Webster- — Henry Clay — John C. Calhoun 



US! ( >/■' ( HAPTERS AND SI 'BJECTS 1 1 

— Clay's Compromise Measure on the Tiriff Question — On Slavery F.xtcnsion — 
Webster and Calhoun and the Tariff Question — -Webster's Reply to Hayne — The 
Union Must and Shall be Preserved -,,S 

en utf.k xxviii 
The Annexation of Texas and the War With Mexico 

Texas as a Province of Mexico — Rebellion and War — The Alamo Massacre — Rout of 
Mi • San Jacinto — Freedom of Mexico Annexation to the I nited States 
— The War Willi Mexico — Taylorand Buena Vista— Scott and Vera Cruz — Advance 
on and Capture of Mexico — Results of the War 413 

CHAPTER XXIX 
The Negro In America and the Slavery Conflict 

The Negro in America — The First Cargo — Beginning of the Slave Traffic — As a Laborer 
— Increase in Numbers— Slavery ; its Different Character in Different States — Politi- 
cal Disturbances — Agitation and Agitators — John Brown — War and How it Emanci- 
pated the Slave — The Free Negro — His Rapid Progress 425 

CHAPTER XXX 
Abraham Lincoln and the Work of Emancipation 

Lincoln's Increasing Fame — Comparison With Washington — The Slave Auction at New- 
Orleans —"If 1 Ever Oct a Chance to Hit Slavery, 1 Will Hit it Hard " — The Young 
Politic im Elected Representative to Congress — His Opposition to Slavery— His 
Famous Debates With Douglas — The Cooper Institute Speech — The Campaign of 
i860 — The Surprise of Lincoln's Nomination — His Triumphant Election — Threats 
of Secession— Fii Sumter — The Dark f the War — The Emancipation 
Question— The Great Proclamation -End of the War — The Oreat Tragedy — The 
Peauty and Oreatness of His Character 436 

CHAPTER XXXI 
Grant and Lee and The Civil War 

Grant a Man for the Occasion — Lincoln's Opinion — " Wherever Crant is Things Move " 
— "Unconditional Surrender "—" Not a Retreating Man'' — Lee a Man of Ac- 
knowledged Greatness — His Devotion to Virginia — Oreat Influence — Simplicity of 
Habits— Shares the Fare of His Soldiers — Lee's Superior Skill — Oratitude and Affec- 
tion of the South — Oreat Influence in Restoring Good Feeling— The War — Seces 
Not Exclusively a Southern Idea — An Irrepressible Conflict — Coming Events — Lin- 
coln — A Nation in Atms— Sumter — Anderson — McClellan — Victory and Defeat — 
"Monitor" and "Merrimac" — Antietam — Shiloh — Buell — Grant — George IL 
Thomas — Rosecrans — Porter — Sherman — Sheridan — Lee — (Gettysburg —A Oreat 
Fight— Sherman's March— The Confederates Weakening— More Victories — Appo- 
mattox — Lee's Surrender — From \\ ice 449 



<a LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 

CHAPTER XXXII 
The Indian in the Nineteenth Century PAGg 

Our Relations and Obligations to the Indian — Conflict between Two Civilizations — Indian 
Bureau — Government Policy — Treaties — Reservation Plan — Removals Under It — - 
Indian Wars — Plan of Concentration — Disturbance and Fighting — Plan of Education 
and Absorption — Its Commencement — Present Condition of Indians — Nature of 
Education and Results — Land in Severalty Law — Missionary Effort — Necessity and 
Duty of Absorption 468 

CHAPTER XXXIII 
The Development of the American Navy 

The Origin of the American Navy — Sights on Guns and What They Did — Opening Japan 
— Port Royal — Passing the Forts — The "Monitor" and "Merrimac" — In Mobile 
Bay — The " Kearsarge " and the "Alabama" — Naval Architecture Revolutionized 
— The Samoan Hurricane — Building a New Navy — Great Ships of the Spanish Amer- 
ican War — The Modern Floating Iron Fortresses — New ' 'Alabama ' ' and ' ' Kearsarge " 482 

CHAPTER XXXIV 
America's Conflict With Spain 

A War of Humanity — Bombardment of Matanzas — Dewey's Wonderful Victory at Manila 
— Disaster to the "Winslow" at Cardenas Bay — The First American Loss of Life — 
Bombardment of San Juan, Porto Rico — The Elusive Spanish Fleet — Bottled-up in 
Santiago Harbor — Lieutenant Hobson's Daring Exploit — Second Bombardment of 
Santiago and Arrival of the Army — Gallant Work of the Rough Riders and the 
Regulars — Battles of San Juan and El Caney — Destruction of Cervera's Fleet — 
General Shafter Reinforced in Front of Santiago — Surrender of the City — General 
Miles in Porto Rico — An Easy Conquest — Conquest of the Philippines — Peace Nego- 
tiations and Signing of the Protocol — Its Terms — Members of the National Peace 
Commission — Return of the Troops from Cuba and Porto Rico — The Peace Com- 
mission in Paris — Conclusion of its Work — Terms of the Treaty — Ratified by the 
Senate , . . . , 496 

CHAPTER XXXV 
The Dominion of Canada 

The Area and Population of Canada — Canada's Early History — Upper and Lower 
Canada — The War of 1812 — John Strachan and the Family Compact — A Religious 
Quarrel — French Supremacy in Lower Canada — The Revolt of 1837 — Mackenzie's 
Rebellion — Growth of Population and Industry — Organization of the Dominion of 
Canada — The Riel Revolts — The Canadian Pacific Railway — The Fishery Difficulties 
— The Fur-Seal Question — The Gold of the Klondike — A Boundary Question — 
An International Commission — The Questions at Issue — The Failure of the Com- 
mission-Commerce of Canada with the United States — Railway Progress in Canada 
— Manufacturing Enterprise — Yield of Precious Metals — -Extent and Resources of the 
Dominion — The Character of the Canadian Population 509 



LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 13 

CHAPTER XX XV I 

Livingstone, Stanley, Peary, Nansen and other Great Discoverers and 

Explorers 

Ignorance of the Earth's Surface at the Beginning of the Century — Notable Fields of 
Nineteenth Century Travel — Famous African Travelers — Dr. Llvinj Mission- 
ary Labors — Discovery of Lake -Livingstone's Journey from the Zambesi to 
the 1st -The Great Victoria Falls — First Crossing of the Continent — Living- 
stone discovers Lake Nyassa -Stanley in Search of Livingstone — Other African 
Travelers —Stanley's Journeys — Stanley Rescues Kmin Pasha — -The Exploration of 
the Arctic Zone — The Greely Party— The Fatal "Jeaneite" Expedition — Expedi- 
tions of Professor Nordenskjold — Peary Crosses North Greenland — Nansen and hif 
Enterprise — Andreses Fatal balloon Venture 523 

CHAPTER XXXVII 

Robert Fulton, George Stephenson, and the Triumphs of Invention 

Anglo-Saxon Activity in Invention — James Watt and the Steam Engine — Labor-Saving 
Machinery of the Eighteenth Century — The Steamboat and the Locomotive — The First 
Steamboat Trip up the Hudson — Di nt of Ocean Steamers — George Stephen- 
son and the Locomotive — First American Railroads — Development of the Railroad 
— Great Railroad Bridges — The Electric Steel Railway — The Bicycle and the Auto- 
mobile — Marvels in Iron and Woodworking — Progress in Illumination and Heating 
— Howe and the Sewing Machine — Vulcanization of Rubber — Morse and tha Tele- 
graph — The Invention lison — Marconi and Wireless Telegraphy — Increase of 
Working Power of the Farmer — The American Reapers and Mowers — Commerce 
of the United States 535 

CHAPTER XXXVIII 
The Evolution in Industry and the Revolt Against Capital 

Mediaeval Industry f Revolution in the I em — Present >f the" 

tion — Th( I aion — The International Workingmen's Association — 

The System of the Strike — Arbitration and Profit Sharing — Experiments and Theories 
in Economies — Co-operative Associations — The Theories of Socialism and Anarchism 
— Secular Communistic Experiments — Development of Socialism — Growth of th# 
Socialist Party — The Development of the Trust — An Industrial Revolution .... 554 

CHAPTER XXXIX 
Charles Darwin and the Development of Science 

Scientific Activity of the Nineteenth Century-Wallace's "Wonderful Century" — Use- 
ful and Scientific Steps of Pro;:: vs of Recent I ties 
in Astronomy — The Spectroscope — The Advance of Chemistry — Light and its Phe- 
nomena — Heat as a Mode of Motion — Applications of Electricity — The Principles of 



j 4 LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS 

PAi 

Magnetism — Progress in Geology — The Nebular and Meteoric Hypotheses — Biolog- 
ical Sciences — Discoveries in Physiology — Pasteur and His Discoveries — Koch and 
the Comma Bacillus — The Science of Hygiene— Darwin and Natural Selection ... 56 

CHAPTER XL 
Literature and Art in the Nineteenth Century- 
Literary Giants of Formei Times — The Standing of the Fine Arts in the Past and the 
Present — Earl) American Writers — The Poets of the United States — American Novel- 
ists — American Historians and Orators — The Poets of Great Britain — British Novelists 
and Historians — Other British Writers — French Novelists and Historians — German 
Poets and Novelists — The Literature of Russia — The Authors of Sweden, Norway 
and Denmark — Writers of Italy — Other Celebrated Authors — The Novel and its 
Development — The Text-Book and Progress of Education — Wide-spread use of Books 
and Newspapers 55 

CHAPTER XLI 
The American Church and the Spirit of Human Brotherhood 

Division of Labor — American Type of Christianity — Distinguishing Feature of American 
Life — The Sunday-school System — The Value of Religion in Politics — Missionary 
Activity — New Religious Movements — The Movement in Ethics — Child Labor in 
Factories — Prevention of Cruelty to Aminals — Prison Reform — Public Executions — 
The Spirit of Sympathy — -The Growth of Charity — An Advanced Spirit of Benevolence 6c 

CHAPTER XLII 
The Dawn of the Twentieth Century 

The Century's Wonderful Stages — Progress in Education — The Education of Women — - 
Occupation and Suffrage for Women — Peace Proposition of the Emperor of Russia — ■ 
The Peace Conference at The Hague — Progress in Science — Political Evolution — 
Territorial Progress of the Nations — Probable Future of English Speech — A Telephone 
Newspaper — Among the Dull-Minded Peoples — Limitations to Progress — Probable 
Lines of Future Activity — Industry in the Twentieth Century — The King, the Priest 
and the Cash Box — The New Psychology 61 



LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 



PAGR 



i of the Ninel ry Frontispiece 

hike of Chartres at the Battle of Jemappes 21 

attle of Chateau-Gontier 22 

>eath of Marat 3 1 

,ast Victims of the Reign of Terror 3 2 

Antoinette Led to Execution 37 

"he Battle of Rivoli 3 8 

rapoleon Crossing the Aljis 47 

rapoleon and the Mummy of Pharaoh 48 

Fapoleon Bonaparte ■. 53 

'In- Mr, in: Sovereigns 54 

'he Death of Admiral Nelson 59 

lur.it at the Battle of Jena 60 

'he Battle of Eylau 69 

'lie Battle of I Holland 7° 

!he Order to Charge at Friedland 79 

fapoleon and the Queen of Prussia at Tilsit 8° 

larshal Ney Retreating from Russia 89 

General Bliicher's Fall at Ligny 9° 

"he Battle of Dresden, August 26 and 2-, [813 94 

is English Novelists 95 

'he Eve of Waterloo 99 

Wellington at Waterloo Giving the Word to Advance 100 

Letreat of Napoleon from Waterloo 109 

'he Remnant of an Army 11° 

llustrious Leaders of England's Navy and Army 119 

amos Watt, the Father of the Steam Engine 120 

heat English Historians and Prose Writers 129 

'anions Popes of the Century I 3° 

ireat English Statesmen ( Plate I ) 139 

bitain's Sovereign and Heir to the Throne 14° 

fopular Writers of Fiction In England 149 



x6 LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 

VAGI 

Great English Statesmen (Plate II) . 15° 

Potentates of the East 159 

Landing in the Crimea and the Battle of Alma 160 

The Congress at Berlin, June 13, 1878 169 

The Wounding of General Bosquet = 17* 

The Battle of Champigny 179 

Noble Sons of Poland and Hungary 180 

Noted French Authors 189 

Napoleon III. at the Battle of Solferino 190 

Great Italian Patriots 199 

The Zouaves Charging the Barricades at Men tana 200 

Noted German Emperors ' 209 

Renowned Sons of Germany , 210 

The Storming of Garsbergschlosschen 219 

Crown Prince Frederick at the Battle of Froschwiller , . 220 

Present Kings of Four Countries 229 

Great Men of Modern France 230 

Russia's Royal Family and Her Literary Leader 257 

Pour Champions of Ireland's Cause 258 

Dreyfus, His Accusers and Defenders 281 

The Dreyfus Trial 282 

The Bombardment of Alexandria 291 

Battle Between England and the Zulus, South Africa 292 

The Battle of Majuba Hill, South Africa 301 

Two Opponents in the Transvaal War 302 

Typical American Novelists 307 

Two Powerful Men of the Orient 308 

Four American Presidents 409 

Great American Orators and Statesmen 410 

The Battle of Resaca de la Palma 419 

Great American Historians and Biographers 420 

Great Men of the Civil War in America 445 

The Attack on Fort Donelson 446 

General Lee's Invasion of the North 455 

The Sinking of the Alabama, etc 456 

The Surrender of General Lee . . , 465 

The Electoral Commission Which Decided Upon Election of President Hayes 466 

Prominent American Political Leaders 475 

Noted American Journalists and Magazine Contributors 476 

The U. S. Battleship "Oregon" 4S3 



LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 17 



PAI.U 



In the War-Room at Washington 

Leading Commanders of the Ainerii in Navy, Spanish-American War 

Leading Commanders of the American Army 

Spaniards in 1898 497 

Populai H "I the Spanish American War 498 

irrender of Santiago 5 QI 

Commissioners of the Spanish-American War 502 

Illustrious Sons of I 5 21 

Great Explorers in the Ti id Arctics 522 

[nventors of the 1 motive ind the Electrii I 1 L raph 539 

Edison Perfecting the l'ir^t Phonograph 54° 

The Hero of the Strike, Coal Creek, Tenn 557 

ition 

Illustrious Men of Science in the Nineteenth Century 575 

Pasteur in His Laboratory 57*> 

Great Poets of England 5^9 

Vmerican Poets 59° 

Count i Literary Work 603 

New Congressional Library at Washington, D. C 604 

Famous Cardinals of the Century 615 

Preachers and Writers of Religious Classics 616 

Greater New York 629 

to the I niversal Peace Conference at The Hague, 1S99 630 

Key to above 631 



ALPHABETICAL LIST OF PORTRAITS 



PAGB 

Abbott, Lyman 476 

\dams, John Quincy 409 

\.gassiz, Louis 575 

\guinaldo, Emilio 308 

\lbert Edward, (Prince of Wales) . . . 140 

\ustin, Alfred 589 

Balfour, A. J 150 

Bancroft, < 420 

Barrie, James M 1 pi 

Beecher. Henry Ward 410 

Besant, Walter [49 

Bismarck, Karl 1 >tto Von 210 

Blai k, William 140 

Blaine, James ( '1 (.75 

Blanco, Ramon 497 

Bright, John [39 

Browning. Robert 589 

Bryan, William Jennings 475 

nt, William Cullen 590 

Bryee, James 150 

Caine. T. Hall 149 

Carlyle, Thomas [29 

Cer\. miral) 

Chai 1 : eph 302 

Christian IX., (King of Denmark) . . 229 

Clay, Henry 410 

Cleveland, Grover 475 

Cooper, James Fenimore 307 

Dana, Charles A 470 

Darwin, Ch; rles 575 

Davis, Cushman K 502 

Davi i, K rding 476 

1 1 itt, Mil hael 258 

Day, William R 502 

DeLesseps, Ferdinand 230 

I li ew, Chaum ey M 410 

Dewej George 487 

1 I ..-ns. Charles 95 

Disraeli. Benjamin 139 

Dreyfus. . Alfred 281 

Doyle, A. Conan 149 

Drummond, Henry 616 



PAOB 

Dumas, Alexander 189 

I )u Maiuier, George 149 

iton, Edward 307 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo 590 

Esterhazy, Count Ferdinand W. . . . 281 

Everett, Edward 410 

Farrar, Frederick W. , (Canon") .... 616 

(] imperor of Austria) . 229 

Froude, Richard H 129 

Frye, William P 502 

Gambetta, Leon 230 

tldi, < Juiseppe 199 

ird 129 

Gladstone, William Ewart 139 

410 

Grady, Henry W 410 

Grant, Ulysses S 445 

Cray. George 502 

Greeley, Horace 476 

. Edward Everett 307 

II. itead, Mu rat 47 f > 

307 

fulian )7'i 

Healy. T. M~. 258 

Henry. Patrii k 410 

nanl ( olonel 281 

Hobson, Rii n 498 

Holmes, Oliver Wendell 590 

Howells, William Dean 307 

189 

. 1 Ring of Italy) 229 

iboldt, F. H. Alexander von . . . 575 

Huxley. Thomas H 575 

Jackson, Andrew 409 

Jefferson, Thomas 409 

Kipling. Rudyard 

Kosciusko, I liaddetlS 180 

ith, Louis • 180 

Kruger, Paul 302 

(19) 



20 



ALPHABETICAL LIST OF PORTRAITS 



PAGB 

Labori, Maitre 281 

Laurier, Sir Wilfrid 521 

Lee, Robert E 445 

Lee, Fitzhugh 488 

Leo XIII., (Pope) 130 

Li Hung Chang 308 

Lincoln, Abraham 445 

Livingstone, David 522 

Longfellow, Henry W 590 

Loubet (President of France) .... 230 

Lowell, James Russell 590 

Lytton, (Lord) Bulwer 95 

McCarthy, Justin 150 

Macaulay, Thomas B 129 

MacDonald, Sir John A 521 

MacDonald, George 149 

M< Kinky, William 475 

McMaster, John B 420 

Manning, Henry Edward (Cardinal) . . 615 

Mercier, (General of French Army) . . 281 

Merritt, Wesley 488 

Miles, Nelson A 488 

Moltke, H. Karl B. von 210 

Morley, John 150 

Morse, Samuel. F. B 539 

Motley, John L 420 

Nansen, (Dr.) Frithiof 522 

Napoleon Bonaparte 53 

Nelson, (Lord) Horatio 119 

Newman, John Henry (Cardinal) . . . 615 

Nicholas II. and Family, (Czar of Russia) 257 

O'Brien, William 258 

Oscar II., (King of Sweden and Norway) 229 

Otis, Elwell S 498 

Parnell, Charles Stewart 258 

Parton, James 420 

Pasteur, Louis, in his Laboratory . . . 576 

Peary, Lieutenant R. E 522 

Phillips, Wendell 410 

Pitt, William, (Earl of Chatham) ... 139 

Pius IX., (Pope) 130 

Prescott, William H. . . 420 



FAGI 

Reid, Whitelaw 476 

Rios, Montero 497 

Roosevelt, Theodore 498 

Ruskin, John 129 

Sagasta, Praxedes Mateo ....... 497 

Sampson, William T 487 

Schley, Winfield Scott 487 

Scott, Sir Walter 95 

Shafter, William R 488 

Shah of Persia 150 

Shaw, Albert W 476 

Shelley, Percy B 589 

Sherman, William T 445 

Spurgeon, Charles H 616 

Stanley, Henry M 522 

Stephenson, George . 539 

Stevenson, Robert Louis . 149 

Sultan of Turkey 159 

Taylor, Zachary 409 

Tennyson, Alfred 589 

Thackeray, William Makepeace .... 95 

Thiers, Louis Adolphe 230 

Thompson, Hon. J. S. D 521 

Tolstoi, Count Lyof Nikolaievitch . . . 603 

Trollope, Anthony 95 

Tupper, Sir Charles 521 

Victor Emmanuel (King of Italy) ... 199 

Victoria (Queen of England) 140 

Wallace, General Lew 307 

Watson, John (Ian Maclaren) .... 616 

Watson, John Crittenden 487 

Watt, James 120 

Watterson, Henry W 476 

Webster, Daniel 410 

Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, (Duke) , 119 

Wheeler, Joseph 498 

Whittier, John G 590 

William I. , Emperor of Germany . . . 209 

William II., Emperor of Germany . . . .209 

Wordsworth, William 589 




BATTLE OF CHATEAU-GONTIER (Reign of Terror. 1792) 



INTRODUCTION. 



IT is the story of a hundred years that we propose to give ; the record 
of the noblest and most marvelous century in the annals of mankind. 

Standing here, at the: dawn of the Twentieth Century, as at the summit 
}f a lofty peak of time, we may gaze far backward over the road we have 
traversed, losing sight of its minor incidents, but seeing its great events loom 
ip in startling prominence before our eyes ; 1 , of its thronging mil- 

lions, but proud of those mighty men who have made the history of the 

and rise like giants above the common throng. History is made up 
of the deeds of great men and the movements of grand events, and there is 
no better or clearer way to tell the marvelous story of the Nineteenth ( 
tury than to put upon record the deeds of its heroes and I ribe the 

events and achievements in which reside the true history of the : 

First of all, in this review, it is important to show in what the great- 
ness of the century consists, to contrast its beginning and its ending, 
and point out the stages of the magnificent pr it has made. It is one 

thing to declare that the Nineteenth has been l glorious 

of the centuries ; it is another and more task to trace tl elop- 

ment of this greatness and the culmination of this career of glory. This it 
is that we shall endeavor to do in the pages of this work. All of us have 
lived in the century here described, many of us through a art of it, 

some of us, possibly, through the whole of it. It is in the full ise our 

own century, one of which we have a just right to feel proud, and in whose 
career all of us must take a deep and vital interest. 

iore entering upon the history of the agfe it is well to 
take a birds-eye view oi it, and briefly present its claims to Eye view 
greatness. They are many and mighty, and can only beglani 
at in these introductory pages; it would need volumes to show them in full. 
They cover every held of human effort. They have to do with political 
development, the relations of capital and labor, invention, science, literature, 
production, commerce, ami a dozen other life interests, all of which will be 
considered in this work. The greatness of the world's progress can be 
most clearly shown by pointing out the state of affairs in the several 

23 



24 INTRODUCTION 

branches of human effort at the opening and closing of the century and 
placing them in sharp contrast. This it is proposed to do in this introduc- 
tory sketch. 

A hundred years ago the political aspect of the world was remarkably 
different from what it is now. Kings, many of them, were tyrants ; peoples, 
as a rule, were slaves — in fact, if not in name. The absolute government 
of the Middle Ages had been in a measure set aside, but the throne had 
_ still immense power, and between the kingfs and the nobles 

Tyranny and r ° 

oppression in the people were crushed like grain between the upper and 
the Eighteenth ne ther millstones. Tyranny spread widely ; oppression was 
rampant ;- poverty was the common lot ; comfort was confined 
to the rich ; law was merciless ; punishment for trifling offences was swift 
and cruel ; the broad sentiment of human fellowship had just begun to 
develop ; the sun of civilization shone only on a narrow region of the earth, 
beyond which barbarism and savagery prevailed. 

In 1800, the government of the people had just fairly begun. Europe 
had two small republics, Switzerland and the United Netherlands, and in 
the West the republic of the United States was still in its feeble youth. 
The so-called republic of France was virtually the kingdom of Napoleon, 
the autocratic First Consul, and those which he had founded elsewhere 
were the slaves of his imperious will. Government almost everywhere was 
autocratic and arbitrary. In Great Britain, the freest of the monarchies, 
the king's will could still set aside law and justice in many instances and 
parliament represented only a tithe of the people. Not only was universal 
suffrage unknown, but some of the greatest cities of the kingdom had no 
voice in making the laws. 

Government and ^ n I 9°°' a century later, vast changes had taken place 

the Rights of in the political world. The republic of the United States 
an in 1900 j^d g rown f ro m a feeble infant into a powerful giant, and its 
free system of government had spread over the whole great continent of, 
America. Every independent nation of the West had become a republic 
and Canada, still a British colony, was a republic in almost everything but 
>the name. In Europe, France was added to the list of firmly-founded 
republics, and throughout that continent, except in Russia and Turkey, the 
power of the monarchs had declined, that of the jDeople had advanced. In 
1800, the kings almost everywhere seemed firmly seated on their thrones. 
In 1900, the thrones everywhere were shaking, and the whole moss-grown 
institution of kingship was trembling over the rising earthquake of the 
popular will. 

The influence of the people in the government had made a marvelous 



TNTRODUCTIi 25 

advance. The right of suffrage, greatly restricted in 1S00, had become 
universal in most of the civilized lands at the century's end. Throughout 
the American continent every male citizen had the right of voting. The 
same was the case in most of western Europe, and even in far-off Japan, 
which a century before had been held under a seemingly help- guffrageand 
less tyranny. Human slavery, which held captive millions Human 
upon millions of men and women in 1S00, had vanished from ru '" m 
the realms of civilization in 1900, and a vigorous effort was being made to 
banish it from every region of the earth. As will be seen from this hasty 
retrospect, the rights of man had made a wonderful advance during the 
century, far greater than in any other century of human history. 

In the feeling of human fellowship, the sentiment of sympathy and 
benevolence, the growth of altruism, or love for mankind, there had been 
an equal progress. At the beginning of the century law was stern, justice 
severe, punishment frightfully cruel. Small offences met with severe retri- 
bution. .Men were hung for a dozen crimes which now call for only a light 
punishment. Thefts which are now thought severely punished CrlmIlin , Law 
by .1 year or two in prison then often led to the >ld. and Prison 

Men are hung now, in the most enlightened nations, only for Discipline m 
murder. Then they were hung for fifty crimes, some so slight 
as to seem petty. A father could not steal a loaf of bread for his starving 
children except at peril of a long term of imprisonment, or, possibly, of 
death on the scaffold. 

And imprisonment then was a different affair from what it is now. The 
prisons of that day were often horrible deiis, noisome, filthy, swarming with 
vermin, their best rooms unfit for human r< their worst dungeons 

a hell upon earth. This not only in the less advanced nations, but even in 
enlightened England. Newgate Prison, in London, for instance, was a sink of 
iniquity, its inmates given over to the cruel hands of ruthless gaolers, 
forced to pay a high price for the least privilege, and treated worse than 
brute cattle if destitute of money and friends. And these were not alone 
felons who had broken some of the man)' criminal laws, but men whose 
guilt was not yet proved, and poor debtors whose only crime was their mis- 
fortune. And all this in England, with its boast of high civilization. The 
people were not ignorant of the condition of the prisons ; Parliament was 
appealed to a dozen times to remedy the horrors of the jails; yet many 
years passed before it could be induced to act. 

Compare this state of criminal law and prison discipline with that of 
the present day. Then cruel punishments were inflicted for small offences; 
now the lightest punishments compatible with the well-being of the com- 



26 INTRODUCTION 

munity are the rule. The sentiment of human compassion has become strong 
and compelling ; it is felt in the courts as well as among the people ; public 
opinion has grown powerful, and a punishment to-day too severe for the 
Prisons and crime would be visited with universal condemnation. The 
Punishment treatment of felons has been remarkably ameliorated. The 
in 1900 modern prison is a palace as compared with that of a century 

ago. The terrible jail fever which swept through the old-time prisons like a 
pestilence, and was more fatal to their inmates than the gallows, has been 
stamped out. The idea of sanitation has made its way into the cell and 
the dungeon, cleanliness is enforced, the frightful crowding of the past 
is not permitted, prisoners are given employment, they are not permitted to 
infect one another with vice or disease, kindness instead of cruelty is the 
rule, and in no direction has the world made a greater and more radical 
advance. 

A century ago labor was sadly oppressed. The factory system had 
recently begun. The independent hand and home work of the earlier cen- 
turies was being replaced by power and machine work. The 
System°and the steam-engine and the labor-saving machine, while bringing 
Oppression of blessings to mankind, had brought curses also. Workmen 
the Working- were crowded into factories and mines, and were poorly 
paid, ill-treated, ill-housed, over-worked. Innocent little chil- 
dren were forced to perform hard labor when they should have been at play 
or at school. The whole system was one of white slavery of the most 
oppressive kind. 

To-day this state of affairs no longer exists. Wages have risen, the 
hours of labor have decreased, the comfort of the artisan has grown, what 
were once luxuries beyond his reach have now become necessaries of life- 
Young children are not permitted to work, and older ones not beyond their 
strength. With the influences which have brought this about we are not 
here concerned. Their consideration must be left to a later chapter. It is 
enough here to state the important development that has taken place. 

Perhaps the greatest triumph of the nineteenth century has been in the 
domain of invention. For ages past men have been aiding the work of 
their hands with the work of their brains. But the progress of invention 
continued slow and halting, and many tools centuries old were in common 
use until the nineteenth century dawned. The steam-engine came earlier, 
and it is this which has stimulated all the rest. A power was given to man 
enormously greater than that of his hands, and he at once began to devise 
means of applying it. Several of the important machines used in manufac- 
ture were invented before 1800, but it was after that year that the great era 



INTRODUCTION 






of invention began, and words are hardly strong enough to express the 
marvelous progress which has since taken place. 

To attempt to name- all the inventions of the nineteenth The Era ef 
century would be like writing a dictionary. Those ol Wonderful 

importance might be named by the hundreds ; those which inventions 
have proved making by the dozens. To manufacture, to agriculture, 

to commerce, to all fields of human labor, they extend, and their name is 
legion. Standing on the summit of this century and looking backward, its 
beginning appears pitifully poor and meager. Around us to-day are hun- 
dreds of busy workshops, filled with machinery, pouring out finished prod- 
ucts with extraordinary speed, men no longer makers of goods, but waiters 
upon machines. In the fields the grain is planted and harvested, the grass 
cut and gathered, the ground ploughed and cultivated, everything done by 
machines. Looking hack for a century, what do we see? Men in the fields 
with the scythe and the sickle, in the barn with the flail, working the ground 
with rude old ploughs and harrows, doing a hundred things painfully by 
hand which now they do easily and rapidly by machines. Verily the rate of 
progress on the farm has been marvel 

The above are only a few of the directions of the century's progress. 
In some we may name, the development has been more extraordinary still. 
Let us consider the remarkable advance in methods of travel In the year 
1800, as for hundreds and even thousands of years before, the horse was the 
tautest means known of traveling by land, the sail of traveling by sea. \ 
hundred years more have passed over our heads, and what do TheFateof me 
we behold ? On all sides the powerful and swift locomotive, Horse and the 
well named the iron-horse, rushes onward, bound for the ends of ^ ai1 
the earth, hauling men and goods to right and left with a spied and strength 
that would have seemed magical to our forefathers. On the ocean the steam 
engine performs the same service, carrying great ships across the Atlantic in 
less than a week, and laughing at the puny efforts of the sail. The horse, 
for ages indispensible to man, is threatened with banishment. Electric 
power has been added to that of steam. The automobile carriage is coming 
to take the place of the horse carriage. The steam plough is replacing the 
horse plough. The time seems approaching when the horse will cease to 
be seen in our streets, and may bo relegated to the zoological garden. 

In the conveyance of news the development is more like magic than 
fact. A century ago news could not be transported faster than the horse 
could run or the ship could sail. Now the words of men can be carried 
through space faster than one can breathe. By the aid of the telephone a 
man can speak to his friend a thousand miles away. And with the phono- 






28 INTRODUCTION 

graph we can, as it were, bottle up speech, to be spoken, if desired, a thous- 1 
and years in the future. Had we whispered those things to our forefathers! 
of a century past we should have been set down as wild romancers or insane j 
fools, but now they seem like every-day news. 

These are by no means all the marvels of the century. At its begin j 
ning the constitution of the atmosphere had been recently discovered I 
In the preceding period it was merely known as a mysterious gas called airl 
To-day we can carry this air about in buckets like so much water, or freeze! 
it into a solid like ice. In its gaseous state it has long been used as the 
power to move ships and windmills. In its liquid state it may also soon 
become a leading source of power, and in a measure replace steam, the great! 
power of the century before. 

In what else does the beginning of the twentieth stand far in advance 
of that of the nineteenth century ? We may contrast the tallow candle 
with the electric light, the science of to-day with that of a century] 
education Dis» a S°> tne methods and the extension of education and the 
covery and dissemination of books with those of the year 1800. Discovery 
and colonization of the once unknown regions of the world 
have gone on with marvelous speed. The progress in mining has been! 
enormous, and the production of gold in the nineteenth century perhaps 
surpasses that of all previous time. Production of all kinds has enormously j 
increased, and commerce now extends to the utmost regions of the earth,] 
bearing the productions of all climes to the central seats of civilization, and 
supplying distant and savage tribes with the products of the loom and the 
mine. 

Such is a hasty review of the condition of affairs at the end of the! 
nineteenth century as compared with that existing at its beginning. No 
effort has been made here to cover the entire field, but enough has been 
said to show the greatness of the world's progress, and we may fairly speak 
of this century as the Glorious Nineteenth, 



CHAPTER I. 

The Threshold of the Century. 

AFTER its long carter of triumph and disaster, glory and shame, the 
world stands to-day at the end of an old and the beginning of a 1. 
century, looking forward with hope and backward with pride, for it 
has just completed the most wonderful hundred years it has ever known, 
and has laid a noble foundation for the twentieth century now at its 
dawn. There can be no more fitting- time than this to review the marvi 
progress of the closing century through a portion of which The Age we Live 
all of us have lived, many of us through a great portion of in and its 
it. Some of the greatest of its events have taken place before reat vents 
our own eyes in some of them many now living have borne a part , to 
picture them again to our mental vision cannot fail to be of interest and 
profit to us all. 

When, after a weary climb, we find ourselves on the summit of a lofty 
mountain, and look back from that commanding altitude over the ground 
we have traversed, what is it that we behold ? The minor details of the 
scenery, many of which seemed large and important to us as we passed, are 
now lost to view, and we see only the great and imposing features of the 
landscape, the high elevations, the town-studded valleys, the deep and 
winding streams, the broad forests It is the same when, from the summit 
of an age, we ga/e backward over the plain of time. The myriad of petty 
happenings are lost to sight, and we sec only the striking events, the critical 
epochs, the mighty crises through which the world has passed. True History 
These are the things that make true history, not the daily and the Things 
doings in the king's palace or the peasant's hut. What we 
should seek to observe and store up in our memories are the turning points 
in human events, the great thoughts which have ripened into noble di 
the hands of might which have pushed the world forward in its career; not 
the trilling occurrences which signify nothing, the passing actions which 
have borne no fruit in human affairs. It is with such turning points, 
critical periods in the history of the nineteenth century, that this work pro- 
poses to deal ; not to picture the passing bubbles on the stream of tim< 
to point out the great ships which have sailed up that stream laden 

3 



34 THE THRESHOLD Of THE CENTURY 

with a noble freight. This is history in its deepest and best aspect, and we 
have set our camera to photograph only the men who have made and the 
events which constitute this true history of the nineteenth century. 

On the threshold of the century with which we have to deal two grand* 
events stand forth ; two of those masterpieces of political evolution which 
mold the world and fashion the destiny of mankind. These are, in the 
Eastern hemisphere, the French Revolution ; in the Western hemisphere, 
the American Revolution and the founding of the republic of the United 
Two of the States. In the whole history of the world there are no events 

World's Great= that surpass these in importance, and they may fitly be dwelt 
upon as main foundation stones in the structure we are seek- 
ing to build. The French Revolution shaped the history of Europe for 
nearly a quarter century after 1800. The American Revolution shaped the 
history of America for a still longer period, and is now beginning to shape the 
history of the world. It is important therefore that we dwell on those two 
events sufficiently to show the part they have played in the history of the 
age. Here, however, we shall confine our attention to the Revolution in 
France. That in America must be left to the American section of our work. 
The Mediaeval Age was the age of Feudalism, that remarkable system 
of government based on military organization which held western Europe 
rhe Feudal Sys= captive for centuries. The State was an army, the nobility 

tem and its its captains and generals, the king its commander-in-chief, the 
people its rank and file. As for the horde of laborers, they 
were hardly considered at all. They were the hewers of wood and drawers 
of water for the armed and fighting class, a base, down-trodden, enslaved' 
multitude, destitute of rights and privileges, their only mission in the world 
to provide food for and pay taxes to their masters, and often doomed to 
starve in the midst of the food which their labor produced. 

France, the country in which the Feudal system had its birth, was the 
country in which it had the longest lease of life. It came down to the verge 
of the nineteenth century with little relief from its terrible exactions. We 
see before us in that country the spectacle of a people steeped in misery, 
crushed by tyranny, robbed of all political rights, and without a voice to 
make their sufferings known ; and of an aristocracy lapped in luxury, proud, 
vain, insolent, lavish with the people's money, ruthless with the people's 
blood, and blind to the spectre of retribution which rose higher year by year 
before their eyes. 

One or two statements must suffice to show the frightful injustice that 
prevailed. The nobility and the Church, those who held the bulk of the 
wealth of the community, were relieved of all taxation, the whole burden of 



THE THRESHOLD OF THE RY 

which fell upon the mercantile and laborin unfair exaction that 

threatened to crush industry out of ex - And to picture the condition 

of the peasantry, the tyranny of the feudal customs, it will serve to n 
the oft-told tale of the peasants who, after their day's hard labor in the 
fields, were forced l ids all night long in order to silence the 

croaking of the frogs that disturb' e noble lady's slumbers. Nothing 

need be added to these two instance's to show the oppression under which 
the people of France lay during the 1 era of Feudalism. 

This era of injustice and oppression reached its climax in The Climax of 
the closing years of the eighteenth century, and went down at feudalism in 
length in that hideous nightmare of blood and terror known 
as the French Revolution. Frightful as this was, it was unavoidable. The 
pride and privilege of the aristocracy had the people by the throat, and only 
the sword or the guillotine could loosen their hold. In this terrible instance 
the guillotine did the work. 

It was the need of money for the spendthrift throne that pre 
the Revolution. For years the indignation of the peopl grow ing 

and spreading ; for years the authors of tl Iding luel to 

the flame. The voices of Voltaire, Rousseau and a dozen others hail ] 

d in advocacy of the rights of man, and the people were growing daily 
more restive under their load. But still the lavish waste of money wrung 
from the hunger and sweat of the people went on, until the king and his 
advisers found their coffers empty and were without hope of filling them 
without a direct appeal to the nation at la 

It was in 1788 that the fatal step was taken. Louis XVI, Kin 
France, called a session of the States General, the Parliament xhe states 
ot the kingdom, which had not met for more than a hundred QeneraUs 
years. This body was composed of thr< pre- 

sentatives ^<\ the nobility, of the church, and of the people. In all earlier 
instances they had been docile to the mandate of the throne, and the mon- 
arch, blind to the signs of the time thought but that this assembly 
would vote him the money he asked for, fix by law a system of taxation 
his future supply, and dissolve at his command. 

1 le was ignorant of the temper of the people. They had been given a 
voice at last, and wen- sure to take the opportunity to speak their mind. 
Their representatives, known as the Third Estate, were made up of bold, 
earnest, indignant men, who asked for bread and were not to be put oil 
with a crust. They were twice as numerous as the representatives ot the 
nobles and the clergy, and thus held control of the situation. They were 
ready to support the throne, but refused to vote a penny until the crying 



3 6 THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY 

evils of the State were reformed. They broke loose from the other two 
Estates, established a separate parliament under the name of the National 
Assembly, and begun that career of revolution which did not cease until it 
had brought monarchy to an end in France and set all Europe aflame. 

The court sought to temporize with the engine of destruction which it 

had called into existence, prevaricated, played fast and loose, and with 

every false move riveted the fetters of revolution more tightly round its 

neck. In July, 1789, the people of Paris took a hand in the game. They 

rose and destroyed the Bastille, that grim and terrible State 

The Fall of prison into which so many of the best and noblest of France 

the Bastille r J ..... 

had been cast at the pleasure of the monarch and his min- 
isters, and which the people looked upon as the central fortress of their 
oppression and woe. 

With the fall of the Bastille discord everywhere broke loose, the spirit 
of the Revolution spread from Paris through all France, and the popular 
Assembly, now the sole law-making body of the State, repealed the oppres- 
sive laws of which the people complained, and with a word overturned 
abuses many of which were a thousand years old. It took from the nobles 
their titles and privileges, and reduced them to the rank of simple citizens. 
It confiscated the vast landed estates of the church, which embraced nearly 
one-third of France. It abolished the tithes and the unequal taxes, which 
had made the clergy and nobles rich and the people poor. At a later date, 
in the madness of reaction, it enthroned the Goddess of Reason and sought 
to abolish religion and all the time-honored institutions of the past. 

The Revolution grew, month by month and day by clay. New and 
more radical laws were passed ; moss-grown abuses were swept away in an 
hour's sitting ; the king, who sought to escape, was seized and held as a 
hostage ; and war was boldly declared against Austria and Prussia, which 
showed a disposition to interfere. In November, 1792, the French army 
gained a brilliant victory at Jemmapes, in Belgium, which eventually led to 
the conquest of that kingdom by France. It was the first important event 
in the career of victory which in the coming years was to make France 
glorious in the annals of war. 

King and Queen The hostility of the surrounding nations added to the 

Under the revolutionary fury in France. Armies were marching to the 
rescue of the king, and the unfortunate monarch was seized, 
reviled and insulted by the mob, and incarcerated in the prison called the 
Temple. The queen, Marie Antoinette, daughter of the Emperor of 
Austria, was likewise haled from the palace to the prison. In the following 
year, 1793, king and queen alike were taken to the guillotine and their 




NAPOLEON CROSSING THE ALPS 

Tbe TanXonlnl™' l™? 1 , "?^ S an ""^ acr ° ss < he '° ft y and fr ° z ^ P™«» °> «>e Alps, was emulated r 
Napoleon in 1800 when he led his army across the St. Bernard Pass, descended like a torrent on the 
Austnans in Italy, and defeated them in the great battle of Marengo- 



THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY 

royal heads fell into the fatal basket. The Revolution nsummated, 

the monarchy was at an end, France had fallen into mds of the 

ile, and from them it descended into the hands ol a ruthless and blood- 
thirsty r 

At the head of this mob of revolutionists stood three men, Danton, 
Marat, and Robespierre, the triumvirate of the Reign of Terror, under 
which all safety ceased in France, and all thosi ainst 
whom the least breath ol suspicion arose'. d into Terror 

prison, from which hosts of them made their way to the 
dnadful knife of the guillotine. Multitudes of the rich and noble had fled 
from France, among them Lafayette, the friend and aid of Washington in 
the American Revolution, and Talleyrand, the acute statesman who was to 
play a prominent part in later French history. 

Marat, the most savage of the triumvirate, was slain in July, 1793. by 
the knife of Charlotte Corday, a young woman of pious training, who 
offered herself as the instrument of God for the removal of this infamous 
monster. I I is death rather added to than stayed the tide of blood, and in April, 
1794. Danton, who sought to check its flow, fella victim to his ferocious 
associate. Rut the Reign of Terror was nearing its vnd. In July the 
Assembly awoke from its stupor of fear. Robespierre was denounced, seized, 
and executed, and the' frightful carnival of bloodshed came to an end. The 
work of the National Assembly had been fully consummated, Feudalism 
was at an end, monarchy in France had ceased and a republic had taken 
its place, and a new era for Europe had dawned. 

Meanwhile a foreign war was being waged. England had TheWarsof 
formed! a coalition with most of tin- nations of Europe, and the i : reuch 
France was threatened by land with the troops of Holland, 
Prussia, Austria, Spain and Portugal, and by sea with the: fleet of Great 
Britain. The incompetency of her assailants saved her from destruction. 
Her generals who lost battles were sent to prison or to the guillotine, the 
whole country rose as onr man in defence, and a number of brilliant victor- 
ies drove her enemies from her borders and gave the armies ol France a 
position beyond the Rhine. 

These wars soon brought a great man to the front, Napoleon Bona- 
parte, a son of Corsica, with whose nineteenth century career we shall deal at 
Length in the following chapters, but of whose earlier exploits some- 
thing must In- said here. His career fairly began in 1794, when, under the 
Orders of the National Convention —the successor of the National Assembly 
— he quelled the mob in the streets of Paris with loaded cannon and put a 
final end to the Terror which had so long prevailed. 



4 o THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY 

Placed at the head of the French army in Italy, he quickly astonished 

the world by a series of the most brilliant victories, defeating the Austrians 

and the Sardinians wherever he met them, seizing Venice, the city of the 

lagoon, and forcing almost all Italy to submit to hjs arms. A republic 

was established here and a new one in Switzerland, while Belgium and the 

left bank of the Rhine were held by France. 

Napoleon in His wars here at an end, Napoleon's ambition led him to 

Italy and Egypt, inspired by great designs which he failed to realize. 

syp * In his absence anarchy arose in France. The five Directors, 

then at the head of the Government, had lost all authority, and Napoleon, 

who had unexpectedly returned, did not hesitate to overthrow them and 

the Assembly which supported them. A new government, with three 

Consuls at its head, was formed, Napoleon as First Consul holding almost 

royal power. Thus France stood in 1800, at the end of the Eighteenth 

Century. 

In the remainder of Europe there was nothing to compare with the 

momentous convulsion which had taken place in France. England had 

gone through its two revolutions more than a century before, and its people 

were the freest of any in Europe. Recently it had lost its colonies in 

America, but it still held in that continent the broad domain of Canada, 

and was building for itself a new empire in India, while founding colonies 

in twenty other lands. In commerce and manufactures it entered the nine- 

r. „ teenth century as the greatest nation on the earth. The 

England as a J & 

Centre of hammer and the loom resounded from end to end of the 

industry and island, mighty centres of industry arose where cattle had 
Commerce. . . . 1 1 • 1 • 

grazed a century beiore, coal and iron were being torn in 

great quantities from the depths of the earth, and there seemed everywhere 
an endless bustle and whirr. The ships of England haunted all seas and 
visited the most remote ports, laden with the products of her workshops and 
bringing back raw material for her factories and looms. Wealth accumu- 
lated, London became the money market of the world, the riches and pros- 
perity of the island kingdom were growing to be a parable among the 
nations of the earth. 

On the continent of Europe, Prussia, which has now grown so great, had 
recently emerged from its mediaeval feebleness, mainly under the powerful 
hand of Frederick the Great, whose reign extended until 1786, and whose 
ambition, daring, and military genius made him a fitting predecessor of 
Napoleon the Great, who so soon succeeded him in the annals of war. 
Unscrupulous in his aims, this warrior king had torn Silesia from Austria, 
added to his kingdom a portion of unfortunate Poland, annexed the princi- 



THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURA \\ 

pality of Easl I ri< sland, and lifted Prussia into a l< position among 

the European stat< 

Germany, now with the exception of Austria— a compact The Condition 
empire, was then a scries of disconnected variously oftheGerman 

known as kingdoms, principalities, mar; lectorati 

and by other titles, the whole forming the so-called Holy Empire, though 
it was " neither holy nor an empire." It had drifted down in this fashion 
from the Middle Ages, and the work of consolidation had but just begun, 
in the conquests of Frederick the Great. A host of petty potentates rul 
the land, whose slates, aside from Prussia and Austria, were too weak to 
have a voice in the councils of Europe. Joseph II., the- titular >r of 

Germany, made an earnest and vigorous effort to combine its elements into 
a powerful unit; hut he signally failed, and died in 1 790, a disappointed 
and embittered man. 

Austria, then far the most powerful of the (ierman stairs, was from 
1740 to 1780 under the reign of a woman, Maria Theresa, who strug 
in vain against her ambitious neighbor, Frederick the Great, his kingdom 
being extended ruthlessly at tin- expense of her imperial dominions. 
Austria remained a great country, however, including Bohemia and Hun- 
gary among its domains. It was lord of Lombard) and Venice in Italy, and 
was destined to play an important but unfortunate part in the coming 
Napoleonic wars. 

The peninsula of Italy, the central seat of the great Roman Empire, 
was, at the opening of the nineteenth century, as sadly broken u] 
Germany, a do/en weak states taking tin- place of the one strong one that 

ood of the people demanded. The independent cities of the medi 
period no longer held sway, and we hear no more of wars between Morence, 
Genoa, Milan, bisa and Rome; but the country was still made up of minor 

s- Lombardy, Venice and Sardinia in the north, Naples DJssei)S | 0n |„ 
in the south, Rome in the centre, and various smaller kin;.;-- Italy and 
doms ami dukedoms between. The peninsula was 1 prey to 
turmoil ami dissension. Germany and France had made it 
their fighting ground for centuries, Spain had idled the south with her 
armies, and the country had been miserably torn and rent by these frequent 
wars and those bet v. tte and state, and was in a condition to welcome 

the coming of Napoleon, whose strong hand for the time promised the 

Me sill;; .1! ]m ,k , .ind UllioU. 

Spain, not many centuries 1 efor the greatest nation in Europe, and, as 
such, the greatest nation on the elobe, had miserably declined in power and 
place at the opening of the nineteenth century. Under the or Charles I, 



42 THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY 

it had been united with Germany, while its colonies embraced two-thirds 
of the great continent of America. Under Philip II. it continued power- 
ful in Europe, but with his death its decay set in. Intolerance checked 
its growth in civilization, the gold brought from America was swept away 
by more enterprising states, its strength was sapped by a succession of fee- 
ble monarchs, and from first place it fell into a low rank among the nations 
of Europe. It still held its vast colonial area, but this proved a source of 
weakness rather than of strength, and the people of the colonies, exasper- 
ated by injustice and oppression, were ready for the general revolt which 
was soon to take place. Spain presented the aspect of a great nation ruined 
by its innate vices, impoverished by official venality and the decline of 
industry, and fallen into the dry rot of advancing decay. 

Of the nations of Europe which had once played a prominent part, one 
_. r, .... , was on the point of being swept from the map. The name of 

The Partition of r & r l 

Poland by the Poland, which formerly stood for a great power, now stands 

Robber Na- only for a great crime. The misrule of the kings, the turbu- 
lence of the nobility, and the enslavement of the people had 
brought that state into such a condition of decay that it lay like a rotten 
log amid the powers of Europe. 

The ambitious nations surrounding— Russia, Austria, and Prussia — took 
advantage of its weakness, and in 1772 each of them seized the portion of 
Poland that bordered on its own territories. In the remainder of the king- 
dom the influence of Russia grew so great that the Russian ambassador at 
Warsaw became the real ruler in Poland. A struggle against Russia began 
in 1792, Kosciusko, a brave soldier who had fought under Washington in 
America, being at the head of the patriots. But the weakness of the king 
tied the hands of the soldiers, the Polish patiiots left their native land in 
despair, and in the following year Prussia and Russia made a further 
division of the state, Russia seizing a broad territory with more than 3,000,- 
000 inhabitants. 

In 1794 a new outbreak began. The patriot? returned ana! a desperate 
struggle took place. But Poland was doomed. Suvoroff, the greatest of 
the Russian generals, swept the land with fire and sword. Kosciusko fell 
wounded, crying, " Poland's end has come," and Warsaw was taken and 
desolated by its assailants. The patriot was right ; the end had come. 
What remained of Poland was divided up between Austria, Prussia, and 
Russia, and only a name remained. 

There are two others of the powers of Europe of which we must speak, 
Russia and Turkey. Until th » seventeenth century Russia had been a do- 
main of barbarians, weak and disunited, and for a long period the vassal of 



THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY 43 

the /age M il conquerors of Asia. Under Peter the Great 11689- 

1725) it rose into power ami prominence, took its place among 

civilized and began thai of conquest and expan- "r sl j' an 

sion which is still going on. At the end of t nth 

century it was under the rule of Catharine IL, often miscalled Catharine the 

Great, who died in 1706. just as Napoleon was beginning hi r. Her 

greatness lay in the ability of her generals, who defeated dirkey and con- 

qui red the Crimea, and wh eater part of Poland to her empire. 

Iler strength of mind and decision of character were not shared by her 

successor, Paul I., and Russia entered the nineteenth century under the 

weakest sovereign ol the Romanoff line. 

Turkey, once the terror of Europe, and sending its armies into the heart 
of Austria, was now confined within the boundaries it had long before won. 
and had begun its long struggle for exi .vith its powerful neighbor 

Russia. At the beginning of the nineteenth century it was still a powerful 
state, with a wide domain in Europe, and continued to defy the Christians 
who coveted its territory and sought its overthrow. Bui the canker-worm of 
a weak and barbarous government was at its he-art, while its cruel treat; 
of its Christian subjects exasperated the strong powers oi Europe and 
invited their armed interference. 

As regards the world outside of Europe and America, no part of it had 
yet entered the. circle of modern civilization. Africa was an almost unknown 
continent; Asia was little better known; and the islands of the Eastern seas 
were still in process of discovery, [apan, which was approaching its period 
of manumission from barbarism, was still closed to the world, and China lay 
like a 'm: helpless bulk, fast in the fetters oi conservatism and blind 

self-sufficiency. 



CHAPTER II. 

Napoleon Bonaparte; The Man of Destiny. 

THE first fifteen years of the nineteenth century in Europe yield us the 
history of a man, rather than of a continent. France was the centre 
of Europe; Napoleon, the Corsican, was the centre of France. All the 
affairs of all the nations seemed to gather around this genius of war. He 
was respected, feared, hated ; he had risen with the suddenness of a thunder- 
cloud on a clear horizon, and flashed the lightnings of victory in the dazzled 
eyes of the nations. All the events of the period were concentrated into 
one great event, and the name of that event was Napoleon. He seemed 
incarnate war, organized destruction ; sword in hand he dominated the 
nations, and victory sat on his banners with folded wings. He was, in a full 
sense, the man of destiny, and Europe was his prey. 

Never has there been a more wonderful career. The earlier great 

conquerors began life at the top ; Napoleon began his at the 
A Remarkable ^ & . ' . 

Man and a bottom. Alexander was a king ; Csesar was an aristocrat of 

Wonderful tne Roman republic ; Napoleon rose from the people, and 

O'l reef* 

was not even a native of the land which became the scene of 
his exploits. Pure force of military genius lifted him from the lowest to 
the highest place among mankind, and for long and terrible years Europe 
shuddered at his name and trembled beneath the tread of his marching 
legions. As for France, he brought it glory, and left it ruin and dismay. 

We have briefly epitomized Napoleon's early career, his doings in the 
Revolution, in Italy, and in Egypt, unto the time that France's worship of 
his military genius raised him to the rank of First Consul, and gave him in 
effect the power of a king. No one dared question his word, the army was 
at his beck and call, the nation lay prostrate at his feet — not in fear but in 
admiration. Such was the state of affairs in France in the closing year of 
the eighteenth century. The Revolution was at an end ; the Republic existed 
only as a name ; Napoleon was the autocrat of France and the terror of 
Europe. From this point we resume the story of his career. 

The First Consul began his reign with two enemies in the field, 

The Enemies England and Austria. Prussia was neutral, and he had won 

and Friends of the friendship of Paul, the emperor of Russia, by a shrewd 

move. While the other nations refused to exchange the 

Russian prisoners they held. Napoleon sent home 6,000 of these captives, 

(44) 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE— THE MAS i '/■ DESTINY 

newly clad and armed, under their own leaders, and without demanding 
ransom. This was enough to win to his side the weak-minded Paul, whose 
delight in soldiers he well knew. 

Napoleon now had but two enemies in inns to deal with. He wrote 
letters to the king of England and the emperor of Austria, offerin 
The answers wen; cold and insulting, asking I to take back her Bour- 

bon kings and return to her old boundaries. Nothing remained but war. 
Napoleon prepared for it with his usual rapidity, 
judgment. 

There were' two French armies in the field in the spring of 1800, 
More in commanding in Germany, Massena in Italy. Switzerland, which 

occupied by the French, divided the armies of the enemy, and Napo- 
leon determined to take advantage oi the separation of their forces, and 
strike an overwhelming blow. He sent word to Moreau and Massena to 
keep the enemy in check at any cost, and secretly gathered a third army, 
whose corps were dispersed here and there, while the powers of Europe 
aware only of the army of reserve at Dijon, made up of conscripts and 
invalids. 

Meanwhile the armies in Italy and Germany were doing their best to 
obey orders. Massena was attacked by the Austrians before „ 

J ... Movements of 

he could concentrate his troops, his army was cut in two, and the Armies In 

he was forced to fall back upon Genoa, in which city he was Germany and 

closely I d, with a fair prospect of being conquered l>y 

Starvation if not soon relieved. Moreau was more fortunate. lie defeated 

the Austrians in a series of battles ami drove them hack on Ulm, where he 

blockaded them in their camp. All was read)- for the great movement 

which Napoleon had in view. 

Twenty centuries before Hannibal had led his army across the great 
mountain harrier of the Alps, and poured down like an avalanche upon the 
fertile plains of Italy. The Corsican determined to repeat this brilliant 

vement and emulate Hannibal's career. Several passes across the 
mountains seemed favorable to his purpose, especially those of the St. 
Bernard, the Simplon and Mont Cenis. Of these the first was the most 
difficult ; but it was much the shorter, and Napoleon determined to lead the 
main body of his army over this ice-covered mountain pass, despite its 
dangers and difficulties. The enterprise was one 1 « . deter any man less 
bold than Hannibal or Napoleon, but it was welcome to the hardihood and 
daring of these men, who rejoiced in the seemingly imp and spurned 

at hardships and perils. 

The task of the Corsican was greater than that of the Carthaginian- 



4* NAPOLEON BONAPARTE— THE MAN OF DESTINY 

He had cannon to transport, while Hannibal's men carried only swords and 

spears. But the genius of Napoleon was equal to the task. 

Crosses the The cannon were taken from their carriages and placed in the 

Alps at St. hollowed-out trunks of trees, which could be dragged with 

Bernard Pass r0 p es over the ice and snow, Mules were used to draw the 

gun-carriages and the wagon-loads of food and munitions of war. Stores 

of provisions had been placed at suitable points along the road. 

Thus prepared, Napoleon, on the 16th of May, 1800, began his remark 
able march, while smaller divisions of the army were sent over the Simplon, 
the St. Gothard and Mont Cenis passes. It was an arduous enterprise. 
The mules proved unequal to the task given to them ; the peasants refused 
to aid in this severe work ; the soldiers were obliged to harness themselves 
to the cannon, and drag them by main strength over the rocky and ice- 
covered mountain path. The First Consul rode on a mule at the head of 
the rear-guard, serene and cheerful, chatting with his guide as with a friend, 
and keeping up the courage of the soldiers by his own indomitable spirit. 

A few hours' rest at the hospice of St. Bernard, and the descent was 
begun, an enterprise even more difficult than the ascent. For five days the 
dread journey continued, division following division, corps succeeding corps. 
The point of greatest peril was reached at Aosta, where, on a precipitous 
rock, stood the little Austrian fort of Bard, its artillery commanding the 
narrow defile. 

It was night when the vanguard reached this threatening spot. It was 
passed in dead silence, tow being wrapped round the wheels of the carriages 
and a layer of straw and refuse spread on the frozen ground, while the 
troops followed a narrow path over the neighboring mountains. By day- 
break the passage was made and the danger at an end. 

The sudden appearance of the French in Italy was an utter surprise to 

the Austrians. They descended like a torrent into the valley, seized Ivry, 

and five days after reaching Italy met and repulsed an Austrian force. The 

divisions which had crossed by other passes one by one joined 

The Situation Napoleon. Melas, the Austrian commander, was warned of 

in Italy r " 

the danger that impended, but refused to credit the seemingly 
preposterous story. His men were scattered, some besieging Massena, in 
Genoa, some attacking Suchet on the Var. His danger was imminent, for 
Napoleon, leaving Massena to starve in Genoa, had formed the design of 
annihilating the Austrian army at one tremendous blow. 

The people of Lombardy, weary of the Austrian yoke, and hoping for 
liberty under the rule of France, received the new-comers with transport, 
and lent them what aid they could. On June 9th, Marshall Lannes met 



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X BONAPAXTE— THE MAN OF DESTINY 

and defeated the Austrians at Montebello, aftei a hot engagement. "I 
heard the hones crackle like a hailstorm on the roofs," he said. < >n the 14th, 
the two armies met on the plain of Marengo, and one of the most famous 
of Napi 1I1 oil's l>at 1 in. 

Napoleon was not ready for the coming battle, and was taken by sur- 
prise. He had been obliged to break up his army in order to guard all the 

pas i en to the enemy. When he entered, on the 13th, the plain I 

tween the Scrivia and the Bormida, near the little village ol The lamous 
Marengo, he was ignorant of the movements of the Austri- Field of 

. and was not expecting the onset of Melas, who, on the 
following morning, crossed the Bormida by three bridges, and made a tierce 
assault upon the divisions of generals Victor and Lannes. Victor was vigor- 
ously attacked and driven hack, and Marengo was destroyed by the Aus- 
trian cannon. Lannes was surrounded by overwhelming numbers, and, right- 
ing furiously, was forced to retreat. In the heat of the battle Bonaparte 
reached the field with his guard and his staff, and found himself in the thick 
of the terrific affray and his army virtually beaten. 

'The retreat continued. It was impossible to check it. The enemy 
pressed enthusiastically forward. The army was in imminent danger of 
being cut in two. But Napoleon, with obstinate persistance, kept up the 
fight, hoping for some change in the perilous situation. Melas, on the con- 
trary, — an old man, weary of his labors, and confident in the seeming vic- 
tory,— withdrew to his headquarters at Alessandria, whence he sent off 
despatches to the effect that the terrible Corsican had at length met defeat. 

H did not know his man. Napoleon sent an aide-de-camp in all haste 
after Desaix, one of his most trusted generals, who had just returned from 
Egypt, and who- , rps he had detached towards Novi. All depended upon 
his rapid return. Without Desaix the battle was lost. Fortunately the 
alert general did not wait fur the messenger. I lis ears caught the sound of 
distant cannon and. scenting danger, he marched back with the utmost speed. 

Napoleon met his welcome officer with eyes ol joy and hope. -Non 
see the situation," he said, rapidly explaining the state of affairs. " What 
is to be done ? " 

" It is a lost battle." ] >esaix replied. " But there are some A <iroat l5att | e 
hours of daylight yet. We have time to win another." Lostand 

While he talked with the commander, his regiments had 
hastily formed, and now presented a threatening front to the Austrians. 
Their presence gave new spirit to the retreating troi 

".Soldiers and friends," cried Napoleon to them, "remember that it is 
my custom to sleep upon the field of battle." 



50 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE— THE MAN OF DESTINY 

Back upon their foes turned the retreating troops, with new animation, 
and checked the victorious Austrians. Desaix hurried to his men and placed 
himself at their head. 

" Go and tell the First Consul that I am about to charge," he said to 
an aide. " I need to be supported by cavalry." 

A few minutes afterwards, as he was leading his troops irresistibly for- 
ward, a ball struck him in the breast, inflicting a mortal wound. " I have 
been too long making war in Africa ; the bullets of Europe know me no 
more," he sadly said. "Conceal my death from the men ; it might rob them 
of spirit." 

The soldiers had seen him fall, but, instead of being dispirited, they 
were filled with fury, and rushed forward furiously to avenge their beloved 
leader. At the same time Kellermann arrived with his dragoons, impetuously 
hurled them upon the Austrian cavalry, broke through their columns, and 
fell upon the grenadiers who were wavering before the troops of Desaix. 
It was a death-stroke. The cavalry and infantry together swept them back 
in a disorderly retreat. One whole corps, hopeless of escape, threw down 
its arms and surrendered. The late victorious army was everywhere in 
retreat. The Austrians were crowded back upon the Bormida, here block- 
ing the bridges, there flinging themselves into the stream, on all sides flying 
from the victorious French. The cannon stuck in the muddy stream and 
were left to the victors. When Melas, apprised of the sudden change in the 
aspect of affairs, hurried back in dismay to the field, the battle was irretriev- 
ably lost, and General Zach, his representative in command, was a prisoner 
in the hands of the French. The field was strewn with thousands of the 
dead. The slain Desaix and the living Kellermann had turned the Austrian 
victory into defeat and saved Napoleon. 

The Result of A ^ ew days afterwards, on the 19th, Moreau in Germany 

the Victory won a brilliant victory at Hochstadt, near Blenheim, took 5,000 
prisoners and twenty pieces of cannon, and forced from the 
Austrians an armed truce which left him master of South Germany. A still 
more momentous armistice was signed by Melas in Italy, by which the Aus- 
trians surrendered Piedmont, Lombardy, and all their territory as far as the 
Mincio, leaving France master of Italy. Melas protested against these 
severe terms, but Napoleon was immovable. 

" I did not begin to make war yesterday," he said. "I know your situa- 
tion. You are out of provisions, encumbered with the dead, wounded, and 
sick, and surrounded on all sides. I could exact everything. I ask only 
what the situation of affairs demands. I have no other terms to offer." 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE THE MAN OF DESTINY 5! 

During the night of the 2d and 3d of July, Napoleon r 
which he had left less than two months before. Brilliant ova- N ap0 | e0 n 
tions met him on his route, and all France would have pros- Returnsto 
trated itself at his feet had he permitted. He came crowned 
with the kind of glory which is especially dear to the French, that gained on 
the field of battle 

Five months afterward-, Austria having refused to make peace without 
the concurrence of England, and the truce being at an end, another famous 
victory was added to the list of those which were being inscribed upon the 
annals of France. On the 3d of December the \ Moreau met 

an Austrian army under the Archduke fohn, on the plain of Hohenlinden, 
across which ran the small river 1 

The Austrians marched through the forest of Hohen- M ... 

•^ Moreau and the 

linden, looking for no resistance, and unaware that Moreau's areat Battle 
army awaited their exit. A telter of the trees of Hohen- 

and debouched upon the plain, they were' attacked by the 
French in force. Two divisions h n despatched to take them in the 

rear, and Moreau held back his men to give them the ary time. 

The snow was falling in great flakes, yet through it his keen eyes saw- 
some signs of confusion in the hostile ranks. 

'• Richepanse has struck them in the rear," he said. " the time has come 
to charge." 

Ney rushed forward at the head of his troops, driving the enemy in 
'confusion before him. The centre of the Austrian army was hemmed in 
between the two forces. Decaen had struck their left wing in the rear and 
forced it back upon the Inn. Their right was driven into the valley. The 
day was lost to the Austrians, whose killed and wounded numbered S.ooo, 
while the French had taken 12,000 prisoners and eigh n pieces 

of cannon. 

The victorious French advanced, sweeping back all opposition, until 
Vienna, the Austrian capital, lay before them, only a few leagues away. 
Mis staff officers urged Moreau to tal on ^\ the city. 

" That would be a line thing to do, no doubt," he said; "but to my 
fancy to dictate terms of peace will be a finer thing still." 

The Austrians were ready for peace at an)- price. On Christmas day, 
1800, an armistice was signed which delivered to the French 

The Peace of 

the valley of the Danube, the country of the Tyrol, a number Luneville 
of fortresses, and immense m; :s of war materials. The 

war continued in Italy till the end of December, when a truce was signed 
there and the conflict was at an end. 



52 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE— THE MAN OF DESTINY 

Thus the nineteenth century dawned with France at truce with all her 
foes except Great Britain. In February, 1801, a treaty of peace between 
Austria and France was signed at Luneville, in which the valley of the 
Etsch and the Rhine was acknowledged as the boundary of France. Austria 
was forced to relinquish all her possessions in Italy, except the city of 
Venice and a portion of Venetia ; all the remainder of North Italy falling 
into the hands of France. Europe was at peace with the exception of the 
hostile relations still existing: between England and France. 

The war between these two countries was mainly confined to Egypt, 

where remained the army which Napoleon had left in his hasty return to 

France. As it became evident in time that neither the British land forces 

nor the Turkish troops could overcome the French veterans in the valley 

of the Nile, a treaty was arrans;ed which stipulated that the 
The Peace of 
Amiens French soldiers, 24,000 in all, should be taken home in English 

ships, with their arms and ammunition, Egypt being given 

back to the rule of the Sultan. This was followed by the peace of Amiens 

(March 27, 1802), between England and France, and the long war was, for 

the time, at an end. Napoleoi had conquered peace. 

During the period of peaceful relations that followed Napoleon was by 
no means at rest. His mind was too active to yield him long intervals of 
leisure. There was much to be done in France in sweeping away the traces 
of the revolutionary insanity. One of the first cares of the Consul was to 
restore the Christian worship in the French churches and to abolish the 
Republican festivals. But he had no intention of giving the church back 
its old power and placing another kingship beside his own. He insisted 
that the French church should lose its former supremacy and sink to the 
position of a servant of the Pope and of the temporal sovereign of France. 

Establishing his court as First Consul in the Tuileries, Napoleon 
began to bring back the old court fashions and etiquette, and attempted to 
restore the monarchical customs and usages. The elegance of royalty 
reappeared, and it seemed almost as if monarchy had been restored. 

A further step towards the restoration of the kingship was soon taken. 
Napoleon, as yet Consul only for ten years, had himself appointed Consul 
for life, with the power of naming his successor. He was king now in 
everything but the name. But he was not suffered to wear his new honor 
in safety. His ambition had aroused the anger of the republicans, conspi- 
racies rose around him, and more than once his life was in danger. On his 
way to the opera house an infernal machine was exploded, killing several 
persons but leaving him unhurt. 




NAPOLEON BONAPARTE 



A. IP( >/ EON St W. I/'. XRTE—THE MAN < >/•" DESTINY 55 

Other plots wire organized, and Fouche, the police-agent of the time, 

was kept busy in seeking the plotters, for whom then- was .... 

1 J . . r he Punish- 

briel mercy when found. a Moreau, the victor at ment of the 

Hohenlinden, accus otiating with tin- conspirators, Conspirators 

disgraced, :iled himself from France. Napoleon Bassination 

with his s< ■ emies with the same ruthless energy as oftheDuke 

le did with his foes in the Ik-Id of battle. d'EngMeii 

I lis rage at the attempts upon his life, indeed, took a form that has 
ally condemned. The I hike d'Enghien, a royalist French 
nobleman, grandson of the Prince of Conde, who was believed by Napoleon 
to be the soul of the royalist conspiracies, ventured too near th< 
France, and was seized in foreign territory, taken in haste to Paris, 
shot without form of law or a moment's opportunity for defence. The 
outrage excited the deepest indignation throughout Europe. No name was 
given it but murder, and the historians of to-day speak of the act by no 
other title 

The opinion of the world had little effect upon Napoleon. He was a 
law unto himself. The death of one man or of a thousand men weighed 
nothing to him where his safety or his ambition was concerned. Men were 
the pawns he in the great game of empire, and he heeded not how 

many of them \\ 50 that he won the game. 

culmination of his ambition came in [804, when the hope he had 
long secretly cherished, that of gaining the imperial dignity, was realized. 
He imitated the example of Caesar, the Roman conqueror, in ., 

...... . iNapoleon 

seeking the rown as a reward for his victories, and was elected crowned 
emperor oi tin- French by an almost unanimous vote. That Emperor of 
the sanction of the church might be obtained for the new 
dignity, the Pope was constrained to come to Paris, ami there anointed him 
emperor on 1 )ecemb 1 ^04. 

1'iie new emperor hastened to restore the old insignia of royalty. He 
surrounded himsell with a brilliant court, brought back the discarded titles 
of nobility, named the members ol his family princes and princesses, and 

'it to banish every vestige i>i republican simplicity. Ten years before 
he had begun his career in the streets oi Paris by sweeping away with 
cannon-shot the mob that rose in support of the Reign of Terror. Now he 
had swept away the Republic of France and founded a French empire, with 
himself at its head as Napoleon I. 

But though royalty was restored, it was not a royalty of the old type. 
Feudalism was at an end. The revolution hail' d the last relics of 

that effete and abominable system and it was .in empire on new and modern 
4 



56 X. IPOLEON BONAPARTE— THE MAN OF DESTINY 

lines which Napoleon had founded, a royalty voted into existence by a free] 

people, not resting upon a nation of slaves. 

The new emperor did not seek to enjoy in leisure his new dignity. His 

restless mind impelled him to broad schemes of public improvement. He 

_. „ sousfht glory ; n peace as actively as in war. Important I 

The Oreat & & J l J . Ml 

works Devised changes were made in the management of the finances in order 

By the New to provide tb.e great sums needed for the government, the 

Emperor . . , , . . 

arm) - , anil the state. Vast contracts were made for road and 

canal building, and ambitious architectural labors were set in train. Churches! 

were erected, the Pantheon was completed, triumphal arches were built, 

two new bridges were thrown over the Seine, the Louvre was ordered to be i 

finished, the Bourse to be constructed, and a temple consecrated to the 

exploits of the army (now the church of the Madeleine) to be built. 

Thousands of workmen were kept busy in erecting these monuments to his 

glory, and all France resounded with his fame. 

Among the most important of these evidences of his activity of intellect 

was the formation of the Code Napoleon, the first organized code of French 

law, and still the basis of jurisprudence in France. First promulgated in 

iSoi, as the Civil Code of France, its title was changed to the Code Napoleon 

in 1804, and as such it stands as one of the greatest monuments raised by 

Napoleon to his glory. Thus the Consul, and subsequently the Emperor, 

usefully occupied himself in the brief intervals between his almost incessant 

wars. 



CHAPTER III. 
Europe in the G-rasp oi the Iron Hand. 

rl I E pi if Amiens, which for an interval left France without an 

ien enemy in ! . did not long continue. England failed to 

carry out i main provisions of this treaty, holding on to the 

Mand of Malta in despite of the French pn The feeling ; 

he two nations sunn grew bitter, and in [803 England again declared war 
[gainst France. William Pitt, the unyielding foe of Napoleon, came again 

o the head of the ministry in ind displayed all his old 

... . . ',. • • it' England 

ICtlVltY 111 Organizing coalitions against the hat< ' I. Declares War 

["he war thus declared was to last, so far as England was con- 

ferned, until Napoleon was driven from his throne. It was conducted 1>\ 

he English mainly through the aid of money paid to their European allies 

tnd the activity of their fleet. The British Chan mained an insuper- 

ible obstacle to Napoleon in his conflict with his island foe, and the utmost 

IE could do in the way of revenge was to launch his arm ainst the 

tllii . of Great Britain, and to occupy Hanover, the domain oi the English 

sing on the continent. This he hastened to 

I he immunity of his persistent enemy was more than the proud con- 
aieror felt disposed to endure. Hitherto he' had triumphed over all his 

in the field. Should these haughty islanders contemn his power and 
leiy his armies? II mined to play the role of William of Normandy, 

rabnturies before, ami attack them on their own shores. This design he had 
long entertained, and began actively to prepare tor as soon as war was 

red. An army was encamped at Boulogne, and a great Great p repara . 
repared to convey it across the narrow sea. The war tionsforthe 
thered was enormous in quantity; the army num- invasionol 

° 1 ' r England 

I 000 men, with 10,000 horses; 1. inboats ol 

various kinds v. idy; only the support of the fleet was awaited to 

enable the crossing to be achieved in safety. 

We need not dwell further upon this great enterprise, since it failed to 

yield any result. The French admiral whose concurrence iended upon 

sick and died, and tl lition was necessarily postponed. 

ire new plans could be laid the ind. le l'itt hail succeeded in 

organizing a fresh coalition in Europe, and Napoleon found full employ- 
ment tor his army on the continent. 

(57) 



5 8 EUROPE IN THE GRASPE OF THE IRON HAND 

In April, 1805, a treaty of alliance was made between England and | 
Russia. On the 9th of August, Austria joined this alliance. Sweden sub- j 
sequently gave in her adhesion, and Prussia alone remained neutral among | 
the great powers. But the allies were mistaken if they expected to take the 
astute Napoleon unawares. He had foreseen this combination, and, while 
keeping the eyes of all Europe fixed upon his great preparations at Boulogne, 
he was quietly but effectively laying his plans for the expected campaign. 

The Austrians had hastened to take the field, marching an army into | 
Bavaria and forcing the Elector, the ally of Napoleon, to fly from his capital. | 
The French emperor was seemingly taken by surprise, and apparently was in : 
no haste, the Austrians having made much progress before he left his palace 
at Saint Cloud. But meanwhile his troops were quietly but 
on' Austria rapidly in motion, converging from all points towards the 
Rhine, and by the end of September seven divisions of the 
army, commanded by Napoleon's ablest Generals, — Ney, Murat, Lannes, 
Soult and others, — -were across that stream and marching rapidly upon the 
enemy. Bernadotte led his troops across Prussian territory in disdain of the 
neutrality of that power, and thereby gave such offence to King Frederick 
William as to turn his mind decidedly in favor of joining the coalition. 

Early in October the French held both banks of the Danube, and 
before the month's end they had gained a notable triumph. Mack, one of the 
Austrian commanders, with remarkable lack of judgment, held his army in 
the fortress of Ulm while the swiftly advancing French were cutting off 
every avenue of retreat, and surrounding his troops. An extraordinary 
result followed. Ney, on the 14th, defeated the Austrians at Elchingen, 
cutting off Mack from the main army and shutting him up hopelessly in 
The Surrender Ulm. Five days afterwards the desparing and incapable 
of General general surrendered his army as prisoners of war. Twenty- 
three thousand soldiers laid their weapons and banners at 
Napoleon's feet and eighteen generals remained as prisoners in his hands. 
It was a triumph which in its way atoned for a great naval disaster which 
took place on the succeeding day, when Nelson, the English admiral, 
attacked and destroyed the whole French fleet at Trafalgar. 

The succeeding events, to the great battle that closed the campaign, 
may be epitomized. An Austrian army had been dispatched to Italy under 
the brave and able Archduke Charles. Here Marshal Massena commanded 
the French and a battle took place near Caldiero on October 30th. The 
Austrians fought stubbornly, but could not withstand the impetuosity of the 
French, and were forced to retreat and abandon northern Italy to Massena 
and his men. 



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EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IKON HAND 61 

In the north the king of Prussia, furious at the violation of his neutral 
territory by the French under Bernadotte, gave fi the Russian 

ami Swedish troops, and formed a league of friendship with the Czar 
Alexander. He then dispatched his minister Haugwitz to Napoleon, with 
a demand that led a threat, requiring him, as a basis of peace, to 

restore the former treaties in Germany, Switzerland, Italy and Holland. 

With utter disregard of this demand N a advanced along the 

Danube towards the Austrian meeting and defeating the Austrians 

and Russians in a series of sanguinary conflicts. The Russian army was the 

most ably commanded, and its leader Kutusoff led it backward in slow but 

resolute retreat, fighting only when attacked. The French under Mortier 

were caught isolated on the left bank of the Danube, and fiercely assailed by 

the Russians, losing heavily before they could be reinfor 

Despite all resistance, the French continued to aba: 
., . . . .... , , . The Advance 

Murat soon reaching and occupying Vienna, the Austrian on Vienna 
capital, from which the emperor had hastily withdrawn. Still 
the retreat and pursuit continued, the allies retiring to Moravia, whither the 
French, laden with an immense booty from their victories, rapidly 
followed. Futile negotiations for peace si: 1, and on the i »l 

December, the two armies, both concentrated in their fullest strength 
(92,000 of the allies to 70,000 French) came face to face on the field of 
Austerlitz, where on the following day was to be fought one of the memor- 
able battles in the history of the world. 

The Emperor Alexander had joined Francis of Austria, and the two 
monarchs, with their staff office ipied the castle and village of Auster- 

litz. Their troops hastened to occupy the plateau of Pratzen, 
which Napoleon had designedly left free. His plans of battle Th f E , ve , Before 

1 ti ... Austerlitz 

was already fully made. He had, with the intuition of 

genius, foreseen the probable manoeuvers of the enemy, and had left open for 

them the position which he wished them to occupy. He even announced 

their movement in a proclamation to his troops. 

"The positions that we occupy are formidable," he said, " and while 
the enemy march to turn my right they will present to me their flank." 

This movement to the right was indeed the one that had been decided 
upon by the allies, with the purpose of cutting off the road to Vienn 
isolating numerous corps dispersed in Austria and Styria. It had been 
shrewdly divined by Napoleon in choosing his ground. 

The fact that the 2d of December was the anniversary of the corona- 
tion of their emperor tilled the French troops with ardor. They celebrated 
it by making great torches of the straw which formed their beds and illumi 



62 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

nating their camp. Early the next morning the allies began their projected 
movement. To the joy of Napoleon his prediction was fulfilled, they were 
advancing towards his right. He felt sure that the victory was in his hands. 

He held his own men in readiness while the line of the enemy deployed. 
The sun was rising, its rays gleaming through a mist, which dispersed as it 
The Greatest of rose higher. It now poured its brilliant beams across the 
Napofeon's field, the afterward famous "sun of Austerlitz." The move- 
ment of the allies had the effect of partly withdrawing their 
troops from the plateau of Pratzen. At a signal from the emperor the 
strongly concentrated centre of the French army moved forward in a dense 
mass, directing their march towards the plateau, which they made all haste 
to occupy. They had reached the foot of the hill before the rising mist 
revealed them to the enemy. 

The two emperors watched the movement without divining its intent, 
" See how the French climb the height without staying to reply to our fire,' 
said Prince Czartoryski, who stood near them. 

The emperors were soon to learn why their fire was disdained. Their 
marching columns, thrown out one after another on the slope, found them- 
selves suddenly checked in their movement, and cut off from the two wings 
of the army. The allied force had been pierced in its centre, which was 
flung back in disorder, in spite of the efforts of Kutusoff to send it aid. At 
the same time Davout faced the Russians on the right, and Murat and 
Lannes attacked the Russian and Austrian squadrons on the left, while Kel- 
lermann's light cavalry dispersed the squadrons of the Uhlans. 

The Russian guard, checked in its movement, turned towards Pratzen, 
in a desperate effort to retrieve the fortune of the day. It was incautiously 
pursued by a French battalion, which soon found itself isolated and in 
danger. Napoleon perceived its peril and hastily sent Rapp to its sup- 
port, with the Mamelukes and the chasseurs of the guard. They rushed 
forward with energy and quickly drove back the enemy, Prince Repnin 
remaining a prisoner in their hands. 

The day was lost to the allies. Everywhere disorder prevailed ano 
their troops were in retreat. An isolated Russian division threw down its 
arms and surrendered. Two columns were forced back beyond the marshes. 
The soldiers rushed in their flight upon the ice of the lake, which the 
intense cold had made thick enough to bear their weieht. 

And now a terrible scene was witnessed. War is merci 
Lake Horror ^ ess ' death ' s its a ' m \ the slaughter of an enemy by any 
means is looked upon as admissible. By Napoleon's order the 
French cannon were turned upon the lake. Their plunging balls rent and 



• 



EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

splintered the ice under the feet of the crowd of fugitives. Soon it bro 
with a crash, and the unhappy soldiers, with shrill cries of despair, sunk to 
death in the chilling waters beneath, thousands of them perishing. It was a 
frightful expedient — one that would be deemed a crime in any other co 
than the merciless one of war. 

A portion of the allied army made a perilous retreat al narrow 

embankment which separated the two lakes of Melnitz and Falnitz, their 
exposed causeway swept by the lire of the French batteries. Ot the whole 
army, the corps of Prince Bagration alone withdrew in order of bat 

All that dreadful day the roar of battle had resounded. Al its clo 
the victorious French occupied the field ; the allied army was pouring back 
in disordered flight, the dismayed emperors in its midst ; thousands of dead 
covered the fatal held, the groans of thousands of wounded men filled the 
air. More than 30,000 prisoners, including twenty generals, remained 
in Napoleon's hands, and with them a hundred and twenty pieces of 
cannon and forty flags, including the standards of the Imperial Guard of 
Russia. 

The defeal was a crushing one. Napoleon had won the most fan 
of his battles. The Emperor Francis, in deep depression, Treaty of 
asked tor an interview and an armistice-. Two days afterward Pence with 
the emperors, — the conqueror and the conquered, -met and 
an armistice was -ranted. While the negotiations for peace continu 
Napoleon shrewdly disposed of the hostility of Prussia by offering the state 
of Hanover to that power and signing a treat)- with the king. On Decem- 
ber 26th a treaty of peace between France and Austria was signed at 
Presburg. 1 he Emperor Francis yielded all his remaining p ons in 

Italy, and also the Tyrol, the Black Forest, and other districts in Germany, 
which Napoleon presented to his allies, Bavaria, Wurtemberg, and Baden; 
whose monarchs were still more: closely united to Napoleon by marria, 
between their children and relatives of himself and his wife fosephii 
Bavaria and Wurtemberg were made kingdoms, and Baden was rais 
in rank to a grand-duchy; The three months' war was at an end. Austt 
had paid dearly for her subserviency to England. < >f the several late 
enemies of France, only two remained in arms, Russia and England. 
And in the latter Pitt, Napoleon's greatest enemy, died during the next 
month, leaving the power in the hands of Fox, an admirer of the Corsican. 
Napoleon was at the summit of his glory and sued 

Napoleon's political ( did not end with the partial dismember- 

ment ot Austria. His ambition to b supreme in Europe and to ride 

everywhere lord paramount, inspired him to exalt his family, raising his relu- 



64 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

tives to the rank of kings, but keeping them the servants of his imperious 

will. Holland lost its independence, Louis Bonaparte being named its king. 

Joachim Murat, brother-in-law of the emperor, was given a 

Awards King= kingdom on the lower Rhine, with Dusseldorf as its capital. 

doms to His A stroke of Napoleon's pen ended the Bourbon monarchy in 

Adh ers t a " Naples, and Joseph Bonaparte was sent thither as king, with 

a French army to support him. Italy was divided into duke 

doms, ruled over by the marshals and adherents of the emperor, whose hand 

began to move the powers of Europe as a chess-player moves the pieces 

upon his board. 

The story of his political transformations extends farther still. By rais- 
ing the electors of Bavaria and Wurtemberg to the rank of king's, he had 
practically brought to an end the antique German Empire — which indeed 
had long been little more than a name. In July, 1S06, he completed this 
work. The states of South and West Germany were organized into a league 
named the Confederation of the Rhine, under the protection of Napoleon. 
Many small principalities were suppressed and their territories added to the 
larger ones, increasing the power of the latter, and winning the gratitude of 
their rulers for their benefactor. The empire of France was in this manner 
practically extended over Italy, the Netherlands, and the west and south of 
Germany. Francis II., lord of the " Holy Roman Empire," now renounced 
the title which these radical changes had made a mockery, withdrew his 
states from the imperial confederation of Germany, and assumed the title 
of Francis I. of Austria. The Empire of Germany, once powerful, but long 
since reduced to a shadowy pretence, finally ceased to exist. 

These autocratic changes could not fail to arouse the indignation of the 
monarchs of Europe and imperil the prevailing peace. Austria was in no 
The Hostile condition to resume hostilities, but Prussia, which had main- 

Irritation of tained a doubtful neutrality during the recent wars, grew more 
and more exasperated as these high-handed proceedings went 
on. A league which the king of Prussia sought to form with Saxony and 
Hesse-Cassel was thwarted by Napoleon ; who also, in negotiating for peace 
with England, offered to return Hanover to that country, without consulting 
the Prussian King, to whom this electorate had been ceded. Other causes 
of resentment existed, and finally Frederick William of Prussia, irritated 
beyond control, sent a so-called " ultimatum " to Napoleon, demanding the 
evacuation of South Germany by the French. As might have been expected, 
this proposal was rejected with scorn, whereupon Prussia broke off all 
communication with France and began preparations for war. 



EL 'ROPE IX THE GR. ISP ( >/■' THE SR< >.Y II. IND 65 

Prussians did not know the man with whom they had to deal. It 
was .in idle hope that this state could cope alone with the power of Napo- 
leon and his allies, and while Frederick William was slowly The Prussian 
preparing for the war which he had long sought to avoid, the Armies in 
French troops were on the march and rapidly approaching the e ie 
borders of his kingdom. Saxon}- had allied itself with Prussia under 
pulsion, and had added 20,000 men to its armies. The elector of II 

:el had also joined the Pr . and furnished them a contingent oi 

"roops. Put this hastily levied army. oi men few of whom had 

ver seen a battle, seemed hopeh ss as matched with the great army of war- 
worn veterans which Napoleon was marching with his accustomed rapidity 
against them. Austria, whom the Prussian King hail failed to aid, now 
looked on passively at his peril. The Russians, who still maintained hostile 
relations with Prance, held their troops immovable upon the Vistula. 
Frederick William was left to face the power of Napoleon alone. 

Idle late of the campaign was quickl; : d. Through Marc |, ,„■ the 

the mountain passi ia Napoleon led his forces French Upon 

against the Prussian army, which was divided into two corps, russia 
under the command of the Duke ol Brunswick and the Prince of Hohenlohe. 

ddte troops of the latter occupied the road from Weimar to Jena. The 
heights which commanded the latter town wi ed by Marshal 1. amies 

on his arrival. A second French corps, under Marshals Davout and 
Bernadotte, marched against the Duke of Brunswick and established them- 
selves upon the left bank of the Saale. 

On the morning of the jth of October, [806, the conflict at Jena, upon 
which hung the destiny of the Prussian Kingdom, began. The troops under 
the Prince oi Hohenloh d in number those of Napoleon, but were 

unfitted to sustain the impetuosity of the French assault. Soult and 
Augereau, in command of the wings of the French army, advanced rapidly, 
enveloping the Prussian forces and driving them back by the vigor of their 

k. Then on the Prussian (enter the guard and the reserves fell in a 
compact mass whose tremendous impact the enemy found it impossible to 
endure. The retreat became a rout. The Prussian army broke into a mob 
of fugitives, flying in terror before Napoleon's irresistible veterans. 

rhey were met by Marshal Biechel with an army of 20,000 men advanc- 
ing in all haste to the aid of the Prince of Hohenlohe. 
.... , . Defeat of the 

Throwing his men . ine ol flight, he did his Utmost Prussians at 

to rally the fugitives. His effort was a vain one. His men Jena and 

1 1 • 1 1 11,1 Auerstadt 

were swept away by the panic-stricken mass and pushed back 

by the triumphant pursuers. Weimar was reached by the French and the 



56 EUROPE IN 7 El E GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

Germans simultaneosly, the former seizing prisoners in such numbers as 

seriously to hinder their pursuit. 

While this battle was going on, another was in progress near Auer- 
stadt, where Marsha! Davout had encountered the forces of the Duke of 
Brunswick, with whom was Frederick William, the king. Bernadotte, 
ordered by the emperor to occupy Hamburg, had withdrawn his troops, 
leaving Davout much outnumbered by the foe. But heedless of this, he 
threw himself across their road in the defile of Kcesen, and sustained alone 
the furious attack made upon him by the duke. Throwing his regiments 
into squares, he poured a murderous fire on the charging troops, hurling 
them back from his immovable . lines. The old duke fell with a mortal 
wound. The king and his son led their troops to a second, but equally 
fruitless, attack. Davout, taking advantage of their repulse, advanced and 
seized the heights of Eckartsberga, where lie defended himself with his 
artillery. Frederick William, discouraged by this vigorous resistance, 
retired towards Weimar with the purpose of joining his forces with those 
of the Prince of Hohenlohe and renewing 1 the attack. 

Davout's men were too exhausted to pursue, but Bernadotte was 
encountered and barred the way, and the disaster at Jena was soon made 
evident by the panic-stricken mass of fugitives, whose flying multitude, 
hotly pursued by the French, sought safety in the ranks of the king's corps, 
which they threw into confusion by their impact It was apparent that the 
battle was irretrievably lost Night was approaching. The king marched 
hastily away, the disorder in his ranks increasing as the darkness fell. In 
that one fatal day he had lost his army and placed his kingdom itself in 
jeopardy. "They can do nothing but gather up the debris" sa id Napoleon. 

The French lost no time in following up the defeated army; which had 

The Demoriiiza- broken into several divisions in its retreat. On the 17th, 

tionofthe Duke Eugene of Wurtemberg and the reserves under his 

Prussian command were scattered in defeat, On the 28th, the Prince 

Forces 

of Hohenlohe, with the 12,000 men whom he still held to- 
gether, was forced to surrender. Blucher, who had seized the free city of 
Liibeck, was obliged to follow his example. On ail sides the scattered debris 
of the army was destroyed, and on October 27th Napoleon entered in 
triumph the city of Berlin, his first entry into an enemy's capita!. 
Napoleon ^he battle ended, the country occupied, the work of 

Divides the revenge of the victor began. The Elector of Hesse was driven 

Spoils of f rom i^ t hrone and his country stricken from the list of the 

Victory . J 

powers oi Furope. Hanover and the Hanseatic towns were 

occupied by the French- The English merchandise found in ;-orts and 



EUROPE IN TllF. GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

warehouses was seized and confi A heavy war contribution was laid 

upon the defeated state. Si vere taxes were laid upon Hamburg, Bremen 
and Leipzig, and from all the leading cities the treasures <>f art ami science 
were carried away to enrich the museums and galleries ol ; 

Saxony, whose alliance with Prussia had been a forced one, was alone 
spared. The Saxon prisoners v. :t hack free to their sovereign, ami 

the elector was granted a favorable peace and honored with the title of 
king. In return for these favors he joined the Confederation of the Rhi 
and such was his gratitude to \ ., that he remained his friend and ally 

in the trying days when he had no other friend among the powers of Europe. 

The harsh measures of which we ha\ not tin: only ones 

taken by Napoleon against his enemies. England, the most implacable 
his foes, remained beyond his reach, mistress of the seas as he was lord of 
the land. He could only meet the islanders upon their favorite elerm 
and in November 21, [806, he sent from Berlin to Talleyrand, his Minister 
of Foreign Affairs, a decree establishing a continental embargo against 
Great Britain. 

'The British Island lid this famous edict of reprisal, "are deel 

in a state of blockade. All commerce and all correspondence with tli 
forbidden." All letters or packets addressed to an Englishman or written in 
English were to be every English subject found in The E mbargo 

any country controlled by France was to he made a prisoner on British 
of war ; all commerce in English merchandise was forbidden, ommcrce 
and all ship.-, coming from England or her colonies were to be red. 
admittance to any port. 

It is hardly necessary to speak here of the distress caused, alike in 

rope and elsewhere, by this war upon commerce, in which England did 

not fail to meet th< harsh d< 1 I her opponent by others equally severe. 

Tim effect ol these edicts upon Amen is well known. The 

commerce of neutral nations was almost swept from the seas. One result 

was the American war of 1812, which for a time seemed as likely to he 

directed against France as Great Britain. 

Meanwhile Frederick William ol Prussia was a fugitive 
1 • 1 1 r 1 iii r 1 Frederick 

king. lie refused to accept the harsh terms ol the armistice William a 

fed by Napoleon, and in despair resolved to seek, with the Punitive in 
nnant of his army, some 25,000 in number, the Russian the Russian 
camp, and join his forces with those of Alexander ol Russia, 
still in arms against Fran< 

N ipoleon, 11. >i content while an enemy remained in arms, with inflex- 
ible resolution resolved to make an end of all his adversaries, and meet in 



68 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

battle die great empire of the north. The Russian armies (hen occupied 
Poland, whose people, burning under the oppression and injustice to which 
they had been subjected, gladly welcomed Napoleon's specious offers to 
bring them back their lost liberties, and rose in his aid when he inarched 
his armies into their country. 

Here the French found themselves exposed to unlooked-for privations. 
They had dreamed of abundant stores of food, but discovered that the 
country they had invaded was, in this wintry season, a desert ; a series of 
frozen solitudes incapable of feeding an army, and holding no reward for 
them other than that of battle with and victory over the hardy Russians. 

Napoleon advanced to Warsaw, the Polish capital. The Russians were 
entrenched behind the Narew and the Ukra. The French continued to 
advance. The Russians were beaten and forced back in every battle, several 
furious encounters took place, and Alexander's army fell back upon the 
Pregel, intact and powerful still, despite the French successes. The wintry 
chill and the character of the country seriously interfered with Napoleon's 
plans, the troops being forced to make their way through thick and rain- 
soaked forests, and march over desolate and marshy plains. The winter of 

_. r . . the north foueht agfainst them like a strong- army and manv 
The French in . . 

the Dreary of them fell dead without a battle. Warlike movements 

Plains of became almost impossible to the troops of the south, though 

Poland ill 1 iii- • i 

the hardy northeners, accustomed to the climate, continued 

their military operations. 

By the end of January the Russian army was evidently approaching in 
force, and immediate action became necessary. The cold increased. The 
mud was converted into ice. On January 30, 1S07, Napoleon left Warsaw 
and marched in search of the enemy. General Benningsen retreated, 
avoiding battle, and on the 7th of February entered the small town of 
Eylau, from which his troops were pushed by the approaching French. He 
encamped outside the town, the French in and about it ; it was evident that 
a great battle was at hand. 

The weather was cold. Snow lay thick upon the ground and still fell 
in great flakes. A sheet of ice covering some small lakes formed part of 
the country upon which the armies were encamped, but was thick enough to 
bear their weight. It was a chill, inhospitable country to which the demon 
of war had come. 

Before daybreak on the 8th Napoleon was in the streets of Eylau, 
forming his line of battle for the coming engagement. Soon the artillery 
of both armies opened, and a rain of cannon balls began to decimate the 
opposing ranks. The Russian fire was concentrated on the town, which 






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EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 71 

was soon in flames. That of the French was directed against a hill which 
the emperor deemed it important to occupy. The two armies, The Frightful 
nearly equal in numbers, — the French having 75,000 to the struggle at 
Russian ~< >,ooo, — were but a short distance apart, and the 
slaughter from the fierce cannonade was terrible. 

A series ol movements on both sides began, Davout marching upon 
the Russian flank and Augereau upon the centre, while the Russians 
manoeuvred as if with a purpose to outflank the French on the left. At this 
interval an unlooked-for obstacle interfered with the French movements, a 
snow-fall beginning, which grew so dense that the armies lost sight of each 
other, and vision was restricted to a few feet. In this semi-darkness the 
French columns lost their way, and wandered about uncertainly. For half an 
hour the snow continued to fall. When it ceased the French army was in a 
critical position. Its cohesion was lost; its columns were straggling about 
and incapable of supporting one another; many of its superior officers were 
wounded. The Russians, on the contrary, were on the point of executing 
a vigorous turning movement, with 20.000 infantry, supported by cavalry 
and artillery. 

"Are you going to let me be devoured by these people?" cried Napo- 
leon to Murat, his eagle eve discerning the danger. 

He ordered a grand charge of all the cavalry of the army, consisting 
of eighty squadrons. With Murat at their head, they rushed jviurat's 
like an avalanche on the Russian lines, breaking through the Mighty 
in'antry and dispersing the cavalry who came to its support. 
The Russian infantry suffered severely from this charge, its two massive 
lines being rent asunder, while the third fell hack upon a wood in the rear. 
Finally Davout, whose movement had been hindered by the weather, 
reached the Russian rear, and in an impetuous charge drove them from the 
hilly ground which Napoleon wished to occupy. 

The battle seemed lost to the Russians. They began a retreat, leaving 
the ground strewn thickly with their dead and wounded. But at this critical 
moment a Prussian force, some 8,000 strong, which was being pursued by 
Marshal Ney, arrived on the field and ch the French advance and the 

Russian retreat. Benningsen regained sufficient confii to prepare for 

final attack, when he was advised of the approach of Ney, who was two or 
three hours behind the Prussians. At this discouraging news a final retreat 

Was ordered. 

The French were left masters of the field, though little attempt was 
made to pursue the menacing columns of the enemy, who withdrew in mili- 
tary array. It was a victory that came near being a defeat, and which, 



72 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OE THE IRON HAND 

indeed, both sides claimed. Never before had Napoleon been so stub- 
bornly withstood. His success had been bought at a frightful cost, and 
The Cost of Konigsberg, the old Prussian capital, the goal of his march, 
Victory was still covered by the compact columns of the allies. The 

mm were in no condition to pursue. Food was wanting, and 
they were without shelter from the wintry chill. Ney surveyed the terrible 
scene with eyes of gloom. " What a massacre," he exclaimed ; "and with- 
out result." 

So severe was the exhaustion on both sides from this great battle that 
it was four months before hostilities were resumed. Meanwhile Danzig, 
which had been strongly besieged, surrendered, and more than 30,000 men 
were released to reinforce the French army. Negotiations for peace went 
slowly on, without result, and it was fune before hostilities again became 
imminent. 

Eylau, which now became Napoleon's headquarters, presented a very 
different aspect at this season from that of four months before. Then all 
was wintry desolation ; now the country presented a beautiful scene of green 
woodland, shining lakes, and attractive villages. The light corps of the army 
were in motion in various directions, their object being to get between the 
Russians and their magazines and cut off retreat to Konigsberg. On June 
13th Napoleon, with the main body of his army, inarched towards Fried- 
land, a town on the River Alle, in the vicinity of Konigsberg, towards which 
the Russians were marching'. Here, crossing-- the Alle, Benningsen drove 
from the town a regiment of French hussars which had occupied it, and fell 
with all his force on the corps of Marshal Lannes, which alone had reached 
the field. 

Lannes held his ground with his usual heroic fortitude, while sending 

Napoleon on successive messengers for aid to the emperor. Noon had 

the Field of passed when Napoleon and his staff reached the field at full 

gallop, far in advance of the troops. He surveyed the field 

with eyes of hope. " It is the 14th of June, the anniversary of Marengo," 

he said ; " it is a lucky clay for us." 

"Give me only a reinforcement," cried Oudinot, " and we will cast all 
the Russians into the water." 

This seemed possible. Benningsen's troops were perilously concen- 
trated within a bend of the river. Some of the French generals advised de- 
ferring the battle till the next clay, as the hour was late, but Napoleon was 
too shrewd to let an advantage escape him. 

" No," he said, " one does not surprise the enemy twice in such a blun- 
der." He swept with his field-glass the masses of the enemy before him, 



EUROPE IN THE GRAS If/- IRON HAND 73 

• ■(1 the arm of Marshal Ney. "You see the Russians and the town 
of Friedland," he aid. " March straight forward the town ; take the 

bridges, whatever ii ma; ; trouble yourself with what is taking 

place around you. Li I to me and the army." 

The troops were coming In rapidly, and marching to the places assi: 
them. The hours movi d on. It was half-past five in the afternoon when 
the cannon sounded th ! of the coming fray. 

Meanwhile Key's march upon Friedland had begun. A terrible fire 
from the Ru wept his ranks as he advanced. Aided by The Assault of 

cavalry and artillery, i : a stream defend* lie the indom- 

Russian Imperial Guard. Before those picked troops the ey 

French recoiled in temporary disorder, but the division of General Dupont 
marching briskly up, broke the Russian guard, and the pursuing French 
rushed into the town. In a short time it was in flames ami the fugitive 
Russians were cut off from the bridges, which w on fire. 

The Russians made a vigorous effort to recover their lost ground, 
General Gortschakoff endeavoring to drive the French from the town, and 
other corps making repeated attacks on the French centre. All their efforts 
in vain The French columns continui d to advance. By ten o'clock 
the battle was at an end. Many of the Russians had been drowned in the 
stream, and the field was covered with their dead, whose numbers were 
estimated by the boastful French bulletins at 15,000 or 18,000 men, while, 
they made the improbable claim of having lost no m I an The Tota , 

500 dead. Konigsberg, the prize of victory, was quickly occu- Defeatof the 
pied by Marshal Soult, and yielded the French a vast quantity Russians 
of food, and a la tore of military supplies which had been sent from 

and for Russian use. The K Prussia had lost the whole of his 

ssions with the exception of the single town of Memel. 

Victorious as Napoleon had been, he had found the Russians no con- 
temptible foes. At Eylau he had come nearer defeat than ever before in 
his career. He was qu therefore, 1 to overtures for peace. 

and early in July a notable interview took place; I 1 him and the Czar 

of Russia at Tilsit, on the Niemen, the two 1 "S meeting on a raft in 

the centre of the stream. What 1 1 them is not The E rors 

known. Some think that they arranged for a division of at Tilsit and 
Europe between their respective empires. Alexander taking the rate of 
all the east and Napoleon ail the west. However that was, 
the treaty of peace, signed July 8th, was a disastrous one for the defeated 
Prussian king, who was punished for his temerity in seeking to fight 



74 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

Napoleon alone by the loss of more than half his kingdom, while in addi- 
tion a heavy war indemnity was laid upon his depleted realms. 

He was forced to yield all the countries between the Rhine and the 
Elbe, to consent to the establishment of a Dukedom of Warsaw, under the 
supremacy of the king of Saxony, and to the loss of Danzig and the 
surroundine territory, which were converted into a free State. A new 
kingdom, named Westphalia, was founded by Napoleon, made up of the 
territory taken from Prussia and the states of Hesse, Brunswick and South 
Hanover. His younger brother, Jerome Bonaparte, was made its king. It 
was a further step in his policy of founding a western empire. 

Louisa, the beautiful and charming queen of Frederick William, sought 
Tilsit, hoping by the seduction of her beauty and grace of address to induce 
Napoleon to mitigate his harsh terms. But in vain she brought to bear 
upon him all the resources of her intellect and her attractive charm of man- 
ner. He continued cold and obdurate, and she left Tilsit deeply mortified 
ami humiliated. 

In northern Europe only one enemy of Napoleon remained. Sweden 

retained its hostility to France, under the fanatical enmity of Gustavus IV., 

who believed himself the instrument appointed by Providence to reinstate 

the Bourbon monarchs upon their thrones. Denmark, which refused to ally 

itself with England, was visited by a British fleet, which bom- 

Sweden ar barded Copenhagen and carried off all the Daaish ships of 

war, an outrage which brought this kingdom into close alliance 

with France. The war in Sweden must have ended in the conquest of that 

country, had not the people revolted and dethroned their obstinate king. 

Charles XIII., his uncle was placed on the throne, but was induced to 

adopt Napoleon's marshal Bernadotte as his son. The latter, as crown 

prince, practically succeeded the incapable king in 1S10. 

Events followed each other rapidly. Napoleon, in his desire to add 
kingdom after kingdom to his throne, invaded Portugal and interfered in 
the affairs of Spain, from whose throne he removed the last of the Bourbon 
kings, replacing him by his brother, Joseph Bonaparte. The result was a 
revolt of the Spanish people which all his efforts proved unable to quell, 
aided, as they were eventually, by the power of England. In Italy his 
intrigues continued. Marshal Murat succeeded Joseph Bonaparte on the 
throne of Naples. Eliza, Napoleon's sister, was made queen of Tuscany. 
The Pope a The temporal sovereignity of the Pope was seriously inter- 

Captive at ferecl with and finally, in 1S00, the pontiff was forcibly 
1 removed from Rome and the states of the Church were added 
to the French territory, Pius VII, the pope, was eventually brought to 



EUROPE 1\ THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

France and obliged to residi eau, where he persistently refi 

to yield to Napoleon's wishes or perform any act of ecclesiastical authority 
while held in captivity. 

These various arbitrary acts had their natural result, that of active 
hostility. The Austrians beheld them with growing indignation, and at 
length grew so exas d that, despite their many defeats, they de< 

again to dare the power and genius of th<„ conqueror. In April, 1809, the 
Vienna Cabinet once more declared war against France and made all h 
to put its armies in the field. Stimulated by this, a revolt broke out in the 
Tyrol, the simple-minded but brave and sturdy mountaineers gathering under 
the leadership of Andreas Hofer, a man of authority among them, and wel- 
coming the Austrian tro nt to their aid. 

As regards this war in the Tyrol, there is no need here to go into 
details. It must sulVu / that the bold peasantry, aided Andreas Hofer 

by the natural advantages of their mountain land, for a time and the War 
freed themselves from French dominion, to the astonishment ,r ' e yro 
and admiration of Europe. But their freedom was of brief duration, fresh 
troops were poured into the country, and though the mountaineers won 
more than one victor)-, they proved no match for the power of their foes. 
Their country was conquered, and Hofer, their brave leader, was taken by 
the French and remorselessly put to death by the order of Napoleon. 

The struggle in the Tyrol was merely a side issue in the new war with 
Austria, which was conducted on Napoleon's side with his usual celerii 
movement, '['lie days when soldiers are whisked forward at locomotive 

d had not yet dawned, yet the French troops made extraordinary prog- 
ress on foot, and war was barely declared before the army of Xapoleon 
covered Austria. This army was no longer made up solely of Frenchmen. 
The Confederation of the Rhine practically formed part of Napoleon's 
empire, and Germans now fought side by side with Frenchmen; Marshal 
Lefebvre leading the Bavarians, Bernadotte the Saxons, An- _. 

The Army of 
gereau the men of Baden, Wurtemberg, and Hesse. On the Napoleon 

other hand, the Austrians were early in motion, and by the 10th Marches 

of April the Archduke Charles had crossed the Inn with his 

army and the King <>( Bavaria, Napoleon's ally, was in flight from his capital. 

The quick advance of the Austrians had placed the French arm)' in 

danger. Spread out over an extent of twenty-live leagues, it ran serious 

risk of being cut in two by the rapidly marching troops of the Archduke. 

Napoleon, who reached the front on the 17th, was not slow to perceive the 

peril and to take steps of prevention. A hasty concentration of his forces 

was ordered and vigorously begun. 

5 



76 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

' Never was there need for more rapidity of movement than now," he 
wrote to Massena. "Activity, activity, speed !" 

Speed was the order of the day. The French generals ably seconded 

the anxious activity of their chief. The soldiers fairly rushed together. 

A brief hesitation robbed the Austrians of the advantage 

Overcome which they had hoped to gain. The Archduke Charles, one 

of the ablest tacticians ever opposed to Napoleon, had the 

weakness of over-prudence, and caution robbed him of the opportunity 

given him by the wide dispersion of the French. 

He was soon and severely punished for his slowness. On the 19th 
Davout defeated the Austrians at Fangen and made a junction with the 
Bavarians. On the 20th and 21st Napoleon met and defeated them in a 
series of engagements. Meanwhile the Archduke Charles fell on Ratisbon, 
held by a single French regiment, occupied that important place, and 
attacked Davout at Eckmiihl. Here a furious battle took place. Davout, 
outnumbered, maintained his position for three days. Napoleon, warned of 
the peril of his marshal, bade him to hold on to the death, as he was 
hastening to his relief with 40,000 men. The day was well advanced when 
the emperor came up and fell with his fresh troops on the Austrians, who, 
still bravely fighting, were forced back upon Ratisbon. During the night 
the Archduke wisely withdrew and marched for Bohemia, where a large 
reinforcement awaited him. On the 23d Napoleon attacked the town, and 
The Battle of carr ied it in spite of a vigorous defence. His proclamation to 
Eckmiihl and his soldiers perhaps overestimated the prizes of this brief but 
the Capture active campaign, which he declared to be a hundred cannon, 

of Ratisbon . a ° , . 

forty nags, all the enemy s artillery, 50,000 prisoners, a large 

number of wagons, etc. Half this loss would have fully justified the Arch- 
duke's retreat. 

In Italy affairs went differently. Prince Eugene Beauharnais, for the 
first time in command of a French army, found himself opposed by the 
„_ „ . Archduke John, and met with a defeat. On April 16th, seekino- 

f he Campaign ... . . , , , , » , , , , , 

In Italy to retrieve his disaster, he attacked the Archduke, but the 

Austrians bravely held their positions, and the French were 

again obliged to retreat. General Macdonald, an officer of tried ability, 

now joined the prince, who took up a defensive position on the Adige, 

whither the Austrians marched. On the 1st of May Macdonald perceived 

among them indications of withdrawal from their position. 

" Victory in Germany !" he shouted to the prince. " Now is our time 

for a forward march !" 



EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IKON HAND 77 

He was correct, the Archduke John had been recalled in haste to aid 
his brother in the defence of Vienna, on which the French were advancing 
in force 

The campaign now became a race for the capital of Austria. During 
its progress several conflicts took place, in each of which the French won. 
The city was defended by the Archduke Maximilian with an army of over 
15,000 men, but he found it expedient to withdraw, and on the 13th the 
troops of Napoleon occupied the place. Meanwhile Charles had concen- 
trated his troops and was marching hastily towards the side of the 
Danube, whither his brother John was advancing from Italy. 

It was important for Napoleon to strike a blow before this jum 
could be made. He resolved to cross the Danube in the suburbs of the 
capital itself, and attack the Austrians before they were reinforced. In the 
vicinitv of Vienna the channel of the river is broken by many islets. At the 
island of I.obau. the point chosen for the attempt, the river is broad and 
deep, but I.obau is separated from the opposite bank by only a narrow 
branch, while two smaller islets offered themselves as aids in the construc- 
tion of bridges, there being four channels, over each ol which a bridge was 
thrown. 

The work was a difficult one. The Danube, swollen by The Bridges 
the melting snows, imperilled the bridges, erected with diffi- over the 
1 ultv and braced by insufficient cordage. But despite this anu e 
peril the crossing began, and on May 20th Marshal Massena reached the 
other side and posted his troops in the two villages t<( Aspern and Essling, 
and alone a deep ditch that connected them. 

As yet only the vanguard of the Austrians hail arrived. Other corps 
soon appeared, and by the afternoon of the 21st the entire army, from 
70,000 to 80,000 st r. ed the French, still only half their number, and 

in a position of extreme peril, for the bridge over the main channel of the 
river had broken during the night, and the crossing was cut off in its midst. 

Napoleon, however, was straining every nerve to repair the bridge, ami 
Massena and Lannes, in command of the advance, fought like men fighting 
for their lives. The Archduke Charles, the ablest soldier Napoleon had yet 
encountered, hurled his troops in masses upon Aspern, which covered the 
bridge to Lobau. Several times it was taken and retaken, but the: French 
held on with h grip, all the strength of the Austrians seeming insuffi- 

cient to break the hold of Lannes upon Essling. An advance in force, 
which nearly cut the communication between the two villages, was checked 
by an impetuous cavalry charge, and night fell, leaving the situation 
unchanged. 



7 8 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

At dawn of the next day more than 70,000 French had crossed the 
stream ; Marshal Davout's corps, with part of the artillery and most of the 
ammunition, being still on the right bank. At this critical moment the large 
bridge, against which the Austrians had sent fireships, boats laden with 
stone and other floating missiles, broke for the third time, and the engin- 
eers of the French army were again forced to the most strenuous and hasty 
exertions for its repair. 

The struggle of the day that had just begun was one of extraordinary 

r . valor and obstinacy. Men went down in multitudes ; now 

struggle of the Austrians, now the French, were repulsed ; the Austrians, 

Esslingand impetuously assailed, slowly fell back; and Lannes was pre- 
Aspern . ...... 

paring lor a vigorous movement designed to pierce their 

centre, when word was brought Napoleon that the great bridge had again 
yielded to the floating debris, carrying with it a regiment of cuirassiers, 
and cutting off the supply of ammunition. Lannes was at once ordered to 
fall back upon the villages, and simultaneously the Austrians made a 
powerful assault on the French centre, which was checked with great 
difficulty. Five times the charge was renewed, and though the enemy was 
finally repelled, it became evident that Napoleon, for the first time in his 
career, had met with a decided check. Night fell at length, and reluctantly 
he gave the order to retreat. He had lost more than a battle, he had lost 
the brilliant soldier Lannes, who fell with a mortal wound. Back to the 
Napoleon Forced >sl an d of Lobau marched the French; Massena, in charge of the 
to his First rear-guard, bringing over the last regiments in safety. More 
than 40,000 men lay dead and wounded on that fatal field, 
which remained in Austrian hands. Napoleon, at last, was obliged to 
acknowledge a repulse, if not a defeat, and the nations of Europe held up 
their heads with renewed hope. It had been proved that the Corsican was 
not invincible. 

Some of Napoleon's generals, deeply disheartened, advised an immedi- 
ate retreat, but the emperor had no thought of such a movement. It 
would have brought a thousand disasters in its train. On the contrary, he 
held the island of Lobau with a strong force, and brought all his resources 
to bear on the construction of a bridge that would defy the current of the 
stream. At the same time reinforcements were hurried forward, until by 
the 1st of July, he had around Vienna an army of 150,000 men. The 
Austrians had probably from 135,000 to 140,000. The archduke had, 
morever, strongly fortified the positions of the recent battle, expecting the 
attack upon them to be resumed. 



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NAPOLEON AND THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA AT TILSlT (from the painting by ghosJ 

Tilsit is a city of about 25 ooo inhabitants in Eastern Prussia. Here the Treaty of Peace between the French 

and Kussian Emperors and also between France and Prussia was signed in July, 1807 



EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 81 

Napoleon had no such intention. He had selected the heights ranging 
from Neusiedl to Wagram, strongly occupied by the Austrians, The second 
but not fortified, as his point <>i attack, and on the night oi Crossing of 
July 4th brid ere thrown from the island of Lobau to the the 1)ai1llhe 

mainland, and the army which had been gathering for several days on the 
island began its advance. It moved as a whole against tl hts of 

ram, occupying Aspern and Essling in its advance. 

The ^rcat battli i on the succeeding day. It was hotly contested 

ai all points, hut attention maybe confined to the movement against the 
plateau of Wagram, which had been entrusted t<> Marshal Davout. The 
height was gained after a desj ; the key of the 

battlefield was held by the French ; the Austrians. impetuously t;., ctory 

' ' at Wajcram 

tiled at every point, and driven from every point of vantage, 
began a retreat. The Archduke Charles had anxiously looked for the com- 
ing of his brother John, with the army under his command. He waited in 
vain, the laggard prince failed to appear, and retreal became inevitable. The 
battle had already lasted ten hours, and the French held all the strong points 
i 'I the field ; but the Austrians withdrew slowly and in battle array, presenting 
a front that discouraged any effort to pursue. There was nothing resem- 
bling a rout. 

The Archduke Charles retreated to Bohemia. His forces were dis- 
persed during the march, but he had 70,000 men with him when Napoleon 
reached his front at Znaim, on the road to Prague, on the nth of July. 
Further hostilities were checked by a request for a truce, preliminary to a 
tee. The battle, already begun, was stopped, and during the night an 
armistice was signed. The vigor of the Austrian resistance and the doubt- 
ful attitude of the other powers made Napoleon willing enough to treat for 
terms. 

The peace, which was finally signed at Vienna, October 14. 1809, took 
from Austria 50,000 square miles of territory and 3,000,000 
inhabitants, together with a war contribution of $85,000,000, Tl ^ Peaceof 
while her army was restricted to 150,000 men. The overthrow 
of the several outbreaks which had taken place in north Germany, the defeat 
of a British expedition against Antwerp, and the suppression of the revolt 
in the Tyrol, ended all organized opposition to Napoleon, who was once 
more master f<( the European situation. 

Raised by this signal success to the summit of his power, lord p 
mount of Western Europe, only one thing remained to trouble the mind of 
the victorious emperor. His wife, [osephine, was childless ; his throne 
threatened to be left without an heir. Much as he had seemed to love his 



82 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND 

wife, the companion of his early days, when he was an unknown and uncon- 
sidered subaltern, seeking humbly enough for military employment in Paris, 
yet ambition and the thirst for glory were always the ruling passions in his 
nature, and had now grown so dominant as to throw love and wifely devo- 
tion utterly into the shade. He resolved to set aside his wife and seek a 
new bride among the princesses of Europe, hoping in this way to leave an 
heir of his own blood as successor to his imperial throne. 

Negotiations were entered into with the courts of Europe to obtain a 
daughter of one of the proud royal houses as the spouse of the plebeian 
emperor of France. No maiden of less exalted rank than a princess of 
the imperial families of Russia or Austria was high enough to meet the 
ambitious aims of this proud lord of battles, and negotiations were entered 
into with both, ending in the selection of Maria Louisa, daughter of the 
Emperor Francis of Austria, who did not venture to refuse a demand for 
his daughter's hand from the master of half his dominions. 

_. ... „ Napoleon was not long- in finding a plea for setting- aside 

The Divorce of v & . . 

Josephine and the wife of his days of poverty and obscurity. A defect in 

Marriage of tne marriage was alleged, and the transparent farce went on. 
Maria Louisa „. ,. . T , . , . . . . r 

1 he divorce ot Josephine has awakened the sympathy ol a 

century. It was, indeed, a piteous example of state-craft, and there can be 

no doubt that Napoleon suffered in his heart while yielding to the dictates 

of his unbridled ambition. The marriage with Maria Louisa, on the 2d of 

April, 1 8 10, was conducted with all possible pomp and display, no less than 

five queens carrying the train of the bride in the august ceremony. The 

purpose of the marriage did not fail ; the next year a son was born to 

Napoleon. But this imperial youth, who was dignified with the title of 

King of Rome, was destined to an inglorious life, as an unconsidered teiant 

of the gilded halls of his imperial grandfather of Austria. 



CHAPTER IV. 

The Decline and Fall of Napoleon's Empire. 

AMBI [TON, unrestrained by caution, uncontrolled by moderation, has 
its inevitable end. An empire built upon victory, trusting solely to 
military genius, prepares for itself the elements of its overthrow. 
This fact Napoleon was to learn. In the outset of his career he opposed a 
new art of war to the obsolete one of his enemies, and his path to empire 
was over the en: of slaughtered armies and the ruins of fallen king- 

doms. But year by year they learned his art, in war after war their n 
ance grew more stringent, each successive victory was won with more 
difficulty and at greater cost, and finally, at the crossing of the 
Danube, the energy and genius of Napoleon met their equal, the Rise and 
and the standards of France went back in defeat. It was the Decline of 

tocsin of fate. His career of victory had culminated. From Napoleons 

J Power 

that day its decline began. 

It is inter to find that the first effective check to Napoleon's 

victorious progress came front one of the weaker nations of Europe, a 

power which the conqueror contemned and thought to move as one of the 

minor piei es in his game of empire. Spain at that time had reached almost 

the lowest stage of its decline. Its kiim - was an imbecile ; the heir to the 

throne a weakling; Godoy, the "Prince of the Peace," the monarch's 

favorite, an ambitious intriguer. Napoleon's armies had invaded Portugal 

and forced its monarch to embark for Brazil, his American ,, 

Alms and In. 

domain. A similar movement was attempted in Spain. This trigues in 
country the base Godoy betrayed to Napoleon, and then, Portugal and 
frightened by the consequences of his dishonorable intrigues, 
sought to escape with the king and court to the Spanish dominions in 
America His scheme was prevented by an outbreak of the people of 
Madrid, and Napoleon, ambitiously designing to add the peninsula to his 
empire, induced both Charles IV. and his son Ferdinand to resign from the 
throne. He replaced them by his brother, Joseph Bonaj ho, on June 

6, 1808, was named King of Spain. 

Hitherto Napoleon had dealt with emperors and kings, whose overthrow 
carried with it that of their people In Spain he had a new element, the 

(83) 



THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON S EMPIRE 

people itself, to deal with. The very weakness of Spam proved its strength. 

i )eprived of their native monarchs, and given a king not of their own choice, 

~r. „ .. .v *. the whole people rose in rebellion and defied Napoleon and 
The Bold Defi- « . . • i • • 

anceofthe his armies. An insurrection broke out m Madrid in which 

People of 1,200 French soldiers were slain. Juntas were formed in dif- 

ferent cities, which assumed the control of affairs and refused 
obedience to the new king. From end to end of Spain the people sprang 
to arms and began a guerilla warfare which the troops of Napoleon sought 
in vain to quell. The bayonets of the French were able to sustain King 
Joseph and his court in Madrid, but proved powerless to put down the peo- 
ple. Each city, each district, became a separate centre of war, each had to 
be conquered separately, and the strength of the troops was consumed in 
petty contests with a people who avoided open warfare and dealt in surprises 
and scattered fights, in which victory counted for little and needed to be re- 
peated a thousand times. 

The Spanish did more than this. They put an arm) - in the field which 

_ . , _, ., was defeated by the French, but they revenged themselves 
Spam's BnU . J # ' / & 

liant Victory brilliantly at Baylen, in Andalusia, where General Dupont. 

and Kins Jo- with a corps 20,000 strong, was surrounded in a position from 
seph's Flight ,..,., , , , j , . u 

which there was no escape, and torced to surrender himself 

and his men as prisoners of war. 

This undisciplined people had gained a victory over France which none 
of the great powers of Europe could match. The Spaniards were filled 
with enthusiasm ; King Joseph hastily abandoned Madrid ; the French armies 
retreated across the Ebro. Soon encouraging news came from Portugal. 
1 he English, hitherto mainly confining themselves to naval warfare and to 
aiding the enemies of Napoleon with money, had landed an army in that 
country under Sir Arthur Wellesley (afterwards Lord Wellington) and other 
generals, which would have captured the entire French army had it not 
capitulated on the terms of a free passage to France. For the time being 
the peninsula of Spain and Portugal was free from Napoleon's power. 

The humiliating reverse to his arms called Napoleon himself into the 
field. He marched at the head of an army into Spain, defeated the insur- 
The Heroic gents wherever met, and reinstated his brother on the throne. 

Defence of The city of Saragossa, which made one ot tne most heroic 
defences known in history, was taken, and the advance of th< 
British armies was checked. And yet, though Spain was widely overrun, 
the people did not yield. The junta at Cadiz defied the French, the 
guerillas continued in the field, and the invaders found themselves baffled 
by an enemy who was felt oftener than seen. 



THE DECLINE AND FAl NAPOLl \TPIRE 85 

The Austrian war called away the emperor and the hulk of his troo 
but after it was over he filled Spain with his veterans, increasing the 
strength of the army there to 300,000 men, under his ablest generals, Soult, 
Massena, Ney, Marmont, Macdonald and others. They marched throuj 
Spain from end to end, yet, though they held all the salient points, the 
people refused to submit, but from their mountain fast: kept up a 

petty and annoying war. 

Massena, in 1S11. invaded Portugal, where Wellington with an English 

army awaited him behind the stroii;/ lines of Torres Vedras, „, „. 

& _ Wellington's 

which the ever-victorious French sought in vain to carry by career in 
assault. Massena was compelled to retreat, ami Soult. by Portugal and 
whom the emperor replaced him, was no more successful 
against the shrewd English general. At length Spain won the reward of 
her patriotic defence. The Russian campaign of 18 12 compelled the 
emperor to deplete his army in that country, and Wellington came to the 
aid of the patriots, defeated Marmont at Salamanca, entered Madrid, and 
forced King Joseph once more to flee from his unquiet throne. 

For a brief interval he was restored by the French arm}- under Soult 
and Suchet, but the disasters of the Russian campaign brought the reign 
of King Joseph to a final end, and forced him to give up the pretence of 
reigning over a people who were unflinchingly determined The Reward 
to have no king but one of their own choice. The story of of Patriotic 
the Spanish war ends in 1815, when Wellington defeated the a or 
French at Vittoria, pursued them across the Pyrenees, and set foot upon the 
soil of France. 

While these events were taking place in Spain the power of Napoleon 

was being shattered to fragments in the north. On the banks of the Nie- 

men, a river that flows between Prussia and Poland, there gath- 

, , , , T „ , c A Record of 

ered near the end 01 June, 1S12, an immense army 01 more Disaster 
than 600,000 men, attended by an enormous multitude of non- 
combatants, their purpose being the invasion of the empire of Russia. Of 
this great army, made up of troops from half the nations of Europe, there 
appeared six months later on that broad stream about 16,000 armed nun, 
almost all that were left of that stupendous host. The remainder had per- 
ished on the desert soil or in the frozen rivers of Russia, few of them sur- 
viving as prisoners in Russian hands. Such was the character of the dread 
catastrophe that broke the power ol the mighty conqueror and delivered 
Europe from his autocratic grasp. 

The breach of relations between Napoleon and Alexander was largely 
due to the arbitrary and high-handed proceedings of the French emperor, 



86 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 

who was accustomed to deal with the map of Europe as if it represented his 
private domain. He offended Alexander by enlarging the duchy of Warsaw 
Napoleon and — one °^ h' s own creations — and deeply incensed him by ex- 
theCzarat tending the French empire to the shores of the Baltic, thus 
robbing of his dominion the Duke of Oldenburg, a near rela- 
tive of Alexander. On the other hand the Czar declined to submit the com- 
mercial interests of his country to the rigor of Napoleon's "continental 
blockade," and made a new tariff, which interfered with the importation of 
French and favored that of English goods. These and other acts in which 
Alexander chose to place his own interests in advance of those of Napoleon 
were as wormwood to the haughty soul of the latter, and he determined to 
punish the Russian autocrat as he had done the other monarchs of Europe 
who refused to submit to his dictation. 

For a year or two before war was declared Napoleon had been prepar- 
ing for the greatest struggle of his life, adding to his army by the most rig- 
orous methods of conscription and collecting great magazines of war mate- 
rial, though still professing friendship for Alexander. The latter, however, 
was not deceived. He prepared, on his part, for the threatened struggle, 
made peace with the Turks, and formed an alliance with Bernadotte, the 
crown prince of Sweden, who had good reason to be offended with his former 
lord and master. Napoleon, on his side, allied himself with Prussia and 
Austria, and added to his army large contingents of troops from the German 
states. At length the great conflict was ready to begin between the two 
autocrats, the Emperors of the East and the West, and Europe resounded 
with the tread of marching- feet. 

In the closing days of June the grand army crossed the Niemen, its last 
The invasion of regiments reaching Russian soil by the opening of July. Na- 
Russiabythe poleon, with the advance, pressed on to Wilna, the capital of 
rmy Lithuania. On all sides the Poles rose in enthusiastic hope, 
and joined the ranks of the man whom they looked upon as their deliverer. 
Onward went the great army, marching with Napoleon's accustomed rapid- 
ity, seeking to prevent the concentration of the divided Russian forces, and 
advancing daily deeper into the dominions of the czar. 

The French emperor had his plans well laid. He proposed to meet the 
Russians in force on some interior field, win from them one of his accus- 
tomed brilliant victories, crush them with his enormous columns, and force 
the dismayed czar to sue for peace on his own terms. But plans need two 
sides for their consummation, and the Russian leaders did not propose to 
lose the advantage given them by nature. On and on went Napoleon, 
deeper and deeper into that desolate land, but the great army he was to 



11! VD FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 87 

crush failed to loom up before him, the broad plains still s] onward 

empty of soldiers, and disquiet began to assail his imperious soul as he founc 1 
the Russian hosts keepin ntly beyond his reach, luring . 

him ever deeper into their vast territory. In truth Barclay de Baffled by 
Tolly, the czar's chief in command, had adopted a policy 
which was sure to prove fatal to Napoleon's purpose, that of 
persistently avoiding battle and keeping the French in pursuit of a fleeti 
will-of-the-wisp. while their army wasted away from natural disintegration 
that inhospitable clime. 

He was correct in his views. Desertion, illness, the death of young 
recruits who could not endure the hardships of a rapid march in the sev< 
heat of midsummer, began their fatal work. Napoleon's plan of campaign 
proved a total failure. The Russians would not wait to be and 

each day's march opened a wider circle of operations befot anctng 

host, whom the interminable plain filled with a sense of hopelessness. The 
heal was overpowering, and men dropped from the ranks as rapidly 
chough on a field of battle. At Vitebsk the army was inspected, and the 
emperor was alarmed at the rapid decrease in his foro ne of the divi- 

sions had lost more than a fourth of their men. in every corps the ranks 
were depleted, and reinforcements already had to be set on the march. 

Onward they went, here and there bringing the Russians to bay in a 
minor engagement, but nowhere meeting them in numbers. Europe waited 
in vain for tidings of a great battle, and Napoleon began to look upon his 
proud army with a feeling akin to despair, lie was not alone in his eager- 
ness for battle. Some of the high-spirited Russians, among them Prince 
B Lgration, were as eager, but as yet the prudent policy of Barclay de Tolly 
prevailed. 

On the 14th of August, the army crossed the Dnieper, and march 
now 175,000 strong, upon Smolensk, which iched on the [6th. This 

ancient and venerable town was <1 the Russians, and Smolensk Cap- 

they made their first determined stand in its defence, fighting tured and in 
behind its walls all day of the 17th. Finding that the assault ' lames 
was likely to succeed, they set fire to the town at night and withdrew, 
leaving to the French a city in flames. The bridge was cut, the Russian 
army was beyond pursuit on the road to Moscow, nothing had been gained 
by the struggle but the ruins of a town. 

The situation was growing desperate. For two months the army had 
advanced without a battle of importance:, and was soon in the heart of 
Russia, reduced to half its numbi rs, while the hoped-for victory seemed 
as far off as ever. And the short summer of the north was nearing its end. 



88 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 

The severe winter of that climate would soon begin. Discouragement 
everywhere prevailed. Efforts were made by Napoleon's marshals to 
induce him to give up the losing game and retreat, but he was not to be 
moved from his purpose. A march on Moscow, the old capital of the 
empire, he felt sure would bring the Russians to bay. Once within its 
walls he hoped to dictate terms of peace. 

Napoleon was soon to have the battle for which his soul craved. Bar- 
clay's prudent and successful policy was not to the taste of many of the 
Russian leaders, and the czar was at length induced to replace him by fiery 
old Kutusoff, who had commanded the Russians at Austerlitz. A change 
in the situation was soon apparent. On the 5th of September the French 
army debouched upon the plain of Borodino, on the road to Moscow, and 
the emperor saw with joy the Russian army drawn up to dispute the way 
to the " Holy City" of the Muscovites. The dark columns of troops were 
strongly intrenched behind a small stream, frowning rows of guns threat- 
ened the advancing foe, and hope returned to the emperor's heart. 

Battle began early on the 7th, and continued all day 

The Battle of lone, the Russians defending their ground with unyielding 

Borodino f ' _ , & , . °, . . . . , „ 

stubborness, the French attacking their positions with all 

their old impetuous dash and energy. Murat and Ney were the heroes of 

the day. Again and again the emperor was implored to send the imperial 

guard and overwhelm the foe, but he persistently refused. " If there is a 

second battle to-morrow," he said, "what troops shall I fight it with? It is 

not when one is eight hundred leagues from home that he risks his last 

resource." 

The guard was not needed. On the following day Kutusoff was obliged 

to withdraw, leaving no less than 40,000 dead or wounded on the field. 

Among- the killed was the brave Prince Bagration. The retreat was an 

orderly one. Napoleon found it expedient not to pursue. His own losses 

aggregated over 30,000, among them an unusual number of generals, of 

whom ten were killed and thirty-nine wounded. Three days proved a brief 

time to attend to the burial of the dead and the needs of the wounded. 

Napoleon named the engagement the Battle of the Moskwa, from the river 

that crossed the plain, and honored Ney, as the hero of the day, with the 

title of Prince of Moskwa. 

Th f" ts' ht ^ n t ' le l 5^ tne Holy City was reached. A shout of 

of the Holy " Moscow ! Moscow ! " went up from the whole army as they 

City of gazed on the gilded cupolas and magnificent buildings of that 

famous city, brilliantly lit up by the afternoon sun. Twenty 

miles in circumference, dazzling with the green of its copper domes and 



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Til; INE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE i 

its minarets of yellow stone, the towers and walls of the famous Kremlin 
rising above its palaces and gardens, it seemed like some fabled city of the 
Arabian Nights. With renewed enthusiasm the troops rushed towards it, 
while whole regiments of Poles fell on their knees, thanking God for deliver- 
ing this stronghold of their oppressors into their hands. 

It was an empty city into which the French marched; its streets 
deserted, its dwellings silent. Its busy life had vanished like a morning 

mist. Kutusoff had marched his army through it and left it _. _ 

& The (irand 

to his Iocs. 'The inhabitants w ne, with what they could Army in the 

carry of their treasures. The city, like the empire, seemed old Russian 
likely to be a barren conquest, for here, as elsewhere, the 
policy of retreat, so fatal to Napoleon's hopes, was put into effect. The 
emperor took up his abode in the Kremlin, within whose ample precincts he 
found quarters for the whole imperial guard. The remainder of the army 
was stationed at chosen points about the city. Provisions were abundant, 
the houses and stores of the city being amply supplied. The army enjoyed 
a luxury of which it had been long deprived, while: Napoleon confidently 
awaited a triumphant result from his victorious progress. 

A terrible disenchantment awaited the invader. Early on the following 
morning word was brought him that Moscow was on fire. Flames arose 
from houses that had not been opened. It was evidently a premeditated 
conflagration. The fire burst out at once in a do/en quarters, and a high 
wind carried the flames from street to street, from house to house, from 
church to church. Russians were captured who boasted that they had fired 
the town under orders and who met death unflinchingly. The 

& J _ The Burniiijf of 

governor had left them behind for tiiis fell purpose. The the (ireat 

poorer people, many of whom had remained hidden in their Clt y of 

rioscow. 
huts, now tied in terror, taking with them what cherished 

■ions they could carry. Soon the city was a seething mass of flat 

The Kremlin did nol escape. A tower burst into flames. In vain the 

imperial guard sought to check the fire. No fire-engines were to be found 

in the town. Xapohon hastily left the palace ami sought shelter outside 

the citv, where for three days the flames ran riot, feeding on ancient pal 

and destroying untold treasures. Then the wind sank and rain poured upon 

the smouldering embers. The great city had become a desolate heap of 

smoking ruins, into which the soldiers daringly stole back in search of 

valuables that might have escaped the flames. 

This frightful conflagration was not due to the czar, but to Count 

Rostopchin, the governor of Moscow, who was subsequently driven from 

Russia by the execrations of those he had ruined. But it served asaprocla- 



92 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 

mation to Europe of the implacable resolution of the Muscovites and 
their determination to resist to the bitter end. 

Napoleon, sadly troubled in soul, sent letters to Alexander, suggesting 
the advisability of peace. Alexander left his letters unanswered. Until 
October iSth the emperor waited, hoping against hope, willing to grant 
almost any terms for an opportunity to escape from .he fatal trap into which 
his overweening ambition had led him. No answer came from the czar. 
He was inflexible in his determination not to treat with these invaders of 
his country. In deep dejection Napoleon at length gave the order to 
retreat — too late, as it was to prove, since the terrible Russian winter was 
ready to descend upon them in all its frightful strength. 

The army that left that ruined city was a sadly depleted one. It had 
The Grand been reduced to 103,000 men. The army followers had also 

Army Begins become greatly decreased in numbers, but still formed a host, 
among them delicate ladies, thinly clad, who gazed with terri- 
fied eyes from their traveling carriages upon the dejected troops. Articles 
of plunder of all kinds were carried by the soldiers, even the wounded in the 
wagons lying amid the spoil they had gathered. The Kremlin was destroyed 
by the rear guard, under Napoleon's orders, and over the drear Russian 
plains the retreat began. 

It was no sooner under way than the Russian policy changed. From 
retreating, they everywhere advanced, seeking to annoy and cut off the 
enemy, and utterly to destroy the fugitive army if possible. A stand was 
made at the town of Maloi-Yaroslavitz, where a sanguinary combat took 
place. The French captured the town, but ten thousand men lay dead or 
wounded on the field, while Napoleon was forced to abandon his projected 
line of march, and to return by the route he had followed in his advance 
on Moscow. From the bloody scene of contest the retreat continued, the 
battlefield of Borodino being crossed, and, by the middle of November, the 
ruins of Smolensk reached. 

Winter was now upon the French in all its furv. The food brouo-ht 

from Moscow had been exhausted. Famine, frost, and fatigue had proved 

more fatal than the bullets of the enemy. In fourteen days after reaching 

The Sad Rem- Moscow the army lost 43,000 men, leaving it only 60,000 strong. 

nant of the On reaching Smolensk it numbered but 42,000, having lost 

Army of 18,000 more within eight days. The unarmed followers are 

Invasion . , ° J 

said to have still numbered 60,000. Worse still, the supply 
of arms and provisions ordered to be ready at Smolensk was in great part 
iacking, only rye-flour and rice being found. Starvation threatened to aid the 
winter cold in the destruction of the feeble remnant of the "Grand Army." 



77/A' DECLINE AND FALL OF A S EMPIRE 

Onward went the despairing hi by the Ru ;ians, 

who followed like wolves on their path. Ney, in command of the 
guard, was the hero of the retreat. Cut off by the Russians from the main 
column, and apparently lost beyond hope, he made a wonderful escape by 
crossing the Dnieper on the ice during the night and rejoining his compan- 
ions, who had given up the hope of <• :ing him again. 

On the 26th th M river Beresina was reached, destined to be the 

most terrible point on the whole dreadful march. Two bridges The Dreadful 
were thrown in all haste across th e im, and most of the Crossing of 

men under arms ci but [8,000 Strasfgders fell into the the Beresina 

hands of the enemy. How many were trodden to death in the press or wen 
crowded from the bridge into the icy river cannot be told. It is said that 
when spring thawed the ice 30,000 bodies were found and burned on the 
banks of the stream. A mere fragment of the great army remained alive. 
Ney was the last man to cross that frightful stream. 

On I bulletin which has b< 1 

famous, telling the anxious nations of Europe that the grand army was anni- 
hilated, but the emperor was safe. Two days afterwards he surrendered the 
command of the army to Murat and set out at all speed for Paris, where 
his presence was indispensibly necessary. On the 13th of December some 
16,000 haggard and staggering men, aim ik to hold the arms to 

which they still despairingly clung, n, which the grand 

army had passed in such magnificent strength ami with such abounding 
resources less than six months before. It was the it and m >und- 

ing disaster in the military history of the world. 

This tale of terror may be fitly closed by a dramatic story told by 
General Mathieu Dumas, who, while sitting at breakfast in Gumbinnen, 
saw enter a haergfard man, with long beard, blackened face, and red ami 
glaring eyes. 

"I am here at last," he exclaimed. " Don't you know n 

" No," said th ■ ,1. " Who are yi - 

•• I am th rear-guard of the Grand Army. I have fired the last musket- 
shot on the bridge of Kowno. I have 1 the last of our arms into the 
Niemen, and came hither through the woods. I am Marshal N 

"This is th ining of the- end," said the shrewd Talleyrand, when 

Napoleon set out on his Russian campaign. The remark proved true, the 
disaster in Russia had loosened the grasp of the Corsican on the throat of 
Europe, and the nations, which hated as much as they feared their ruthless 
enemy, made active preparati r his overthrow. While he was in 

France, actively gathering men and materials for a renewed struggle, signs 



94 



THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 



of an implacable hostility began to manifest themselves on all sides in the 
surrounding states. Belief in the invincibility of Napoleon had vanished, 
and little fear was entertained of the raw conscripts whom he was forcing- 
Europe in Arms mto ^^ ranks to replace his slaughtered veterans. 
Against Prussia was the first to break the bonds of alliance with 

Napoleon France, to ally itself with Russia, and to call its people to 

arms against their oppressor. They responded with the utmost enthusiasm, 
men of all ranks and all professions hastened to their country's defence, and 
the noble and the peasant stood side by side as privates in the same regi- 
ment. In March, 1813, the French left Berlin, which was immediately 
occupied by the Russian and Prussian allies. The king of Saxony, how- 
ever, refused to desert Napoleon, to whom he owed many favors and 
whose anger he feared ; and his State, in consequence, became the theatre 
of the war. 

Across the opposite borders of this kingdom poured the hostile hosts, 
The Opening meeting in battle at Liitzen and Buntzen. Here the French 
of the held the field, driving their adversaries across the Oder, but 

ma trugge not m t j ie vvild dismay seen at Jena. A new spirit had been 
aroused in the Prussian heart, and they left thousands of their enemies 
dead upon the field, among whom Napoleon saw with grief his especial 
friend and favorite Duroc. 

A truce followed, which the French emperor utilized in gathering fresh 
levies. Prince Metternich, the able chancellor of the Austrian empire, 
sought to make peace, but his demands upon Napoleon were much greater 
than the proud conqueror was prepared to grant, and he decisively refused 
to cede the territory held by him as the spoils of war. His refusal brought 
upon him another powerful foe, Austria allied itself with his enemies, 
formally declaring war on August 12, 1813, and an active and terrible 
struggle began. 

Napoleon's army was rapidly concentrated at Dresden, upon whose 
The Battle of wol 'ks of defence the allied army precipitated itself in a vigor- 
Dresden, Na= ous assault on August 26th. Its strength was wasted against 

poleon's Last t he vigorously held fortifications of the citv, and in the end 
Great Victory . ° J J 

the gates were hung open and the serried battalions of the 

Old Guard appeared in battle array. From every gate of the city these 

tried soldiers poured, and rushed upon the unprepared wings of the hostile 

host. Before this resistless charge the enemy recoiled, retreating with heavy 

loss to the heights beyond the city, and leaving Napoleon master of the field. 

On the next morning the battle was resumed. The allies, strongly 

posted, still outnumbered the French, and had abundant reason to expect 



THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 95 

victory. But Napoleon's eagle eye quickly saw that their left wing lacked 
the strength (if the remainder of the line, and upon this he poured the bulk 
of his forces, while keeping their centre and right actively engaged. The 
result justified the instinct of his genius, the enemy was driven back in 
disastrous defeat, and once again a glorious victory was inscribed upon the 
banners of France — the final one in Napoleon's career (if fame. 

Yet the fruits of this victory were largely hist in the events of the 
remainder of the month. On the 26th Bliicher brilliantly defeated Marshal 
Macdonald on the Katzbach, in Silesia; on the 30th General ASeriesof 
\ andamme, with 10,000 French soldiers, was surrounded and French 
captured at Culm, in Bohemia; and on the 27th Hirschfeld, at 
Hageksberg, with a corps of volunteers, defeated Girard. The Prussian- 
Swedish army similarly won victories on August 25th and September 6th, 
and a few weeks afterward the Prussian general, Count York, supported by 
the troops of General i lorn, crossed the Elbe in the face of the enemy, 
and gained a brilliant victory at Wartenburg. Where Napoleon was 
present victory inclined to his banner. Where he was absent his lieute- 
nants suffered defeat. The struggle was everywhere fierce and desperate, 
but the end was at hand. 

The rulers of the Rhine Confederation now began to desert Napoleon 

and all Germany to join against him. The first to secede was Bavaria, 

which allied itself with Austria and joined its forces to those of the allies. 

During (October the hostile armies concentrated in front of The Fata i 

Leipzig, where was to be fought the decisive battle of the war. Meeting of 

The struggle promised was the most crigantic one j n wn ; cn the Armies 

r . at Leipzig 

Napoleon had ever been engaged. Against his 100,000 men 

was gathered a host of 300,000 Austrians, Prussians, Russians, and 
Swedes. 

We have not space to describe the multitudinous details of this mighty 
struggle, which continued with unabated fury for three days, October 16th, 
17th, and lSth. It need scarcely be said that the generalship shown by Na- 
poleon in this famous contest lacked nothing of his usual brilliancy, and 
that he was ably seconded by Ney, Murat, Augereau, and others of his 
famous generals, yet the overwhelming numbers of the enemy enabled them 
to defy all the valor of the French and the resources of their great leader, 
and at evening of the i8th the armies still faced each other in battle array, 
the fate of the field \ el undecidi 

Napoleon was in no condition to renew the combat. During the long 
affray the French had expended no less than 250,000 cannon balls. They had 
but 16,000 left, which two hours' firing would exhaust. Reluctantly he gave 
6 



96 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 

the order to retreat, and all that night the wearied and disheartened troop 
filed through the gates of Leipzig, leaving a rear-guard in the city, who de- 
fended it bravely against the swarming multitude of the foe. A disastrous 
blunder terminated their stubborn defence. Orders had been left to blow up 
the bridge across the Elster, but the mine was, by mistake, set off too soon, 
and the gallant garrison, 12,000 in number, with a multitude of sick and 
wounded, was forced to surrender as prisoners of war. 

The end was drawing near. Vigorously pursued, the French reached 
the Rhine by forced marches, defeating with heavy loss the army of Austri- 
ans and Bavarians which sought to block their way. The stream was crossed 
and the French were once more upon their own soil. After years of contest, 
Germany was finally freed from Napoleon's long-victorious hosts. 

Marked results followed. The carefully organized work of Napoleon's 

policy quickly fell to pieces. The kingdom of Westphalia was dissolved. 

_.. „ , The elector of Hesse and the dukes of Brunswick and Olden- 

The Break-up 

of Napoleon's burg returned to the thrones from which they had been driven. 
European The Confederation of the Rhine ceased to exist, and its states 
allied themselves with Austria. Denmark, long faithful to 
France, renounced its alliance in January, 1814. Austria regained posses- 
sion of Lombardy, the duke of Tuscany returned to his capital, and the 
Pope, Pius VII., long held captive by Napoleon, came back in triumph to 
Rome. A few months sufficed to break down the edifice of empire slowly 
reared through so many years, and almost all Europe outside of France 
united itself in hostility to its hated foe. 

Napoleon was offered peace if he would accept the Rhine as the French 
frontier, but his old infatuation and trust in his genius prevailed over the dic- 
tates of prudence, he treated the offer in his usual double-dealing way, and 
the allies, convinced that there could be no stable peace while he remained 
on the throne, decided to cross the Rhine and invade France. 

Blucher led his columns across the stream on the first day of 1814, 

Schwarzenberg marched through Switzerland into France, and Wellington 

crossed the Pyrenees. Napoleon, like a wolf brought to bay, 

France and sought to dispose of his scattered foes before they would unite, 

the Abdica- and began with Blucher, whom he defeated five times within 

Emperor 6 as man y days. The allies, still in dread of their great 

opponent, once more offered him peace, but his success 

robbed him of wisdom, he demanded more than they were willing to give, 

and his enemies, encouraged by a success gained by Blucher, broke off the 

negotiations and marched on Paris, now bent on the dethronement of their 

dreaded antagonist. 



THE FALL AND DECLINE OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 97 

A few words will bring the story of this contest to an end. France 
ted, its army was incapable of coping with the serried battalions 
marshalled against it, Paris surrendered before Napoleon could come to its 
defence, and in the end the emperor, vacillating and in despair, was obliged, 
on April 7, 1S14, to sign an unconditional act of abdication. The powers of 
Europe awarded him as a kingdom the diminutive island ol Elba, in the 
Mediterranean, with an annual income of 2,000,000 francs and an army 
1 omposcd of 400 of his famous guard. The next heir to the throne 
returned as Louis XVIII. France was given back its old frontier of 1492, 
t!ie foreign armies withdrew from her soil, and the career of the great 
Corsican seemed at an end. 

In spite of their long experience with Napoleon, the event proved that 
the powers of Europe knew not all tin- audacity and mental resources of the 
man with whom the;,- had to deal. They had made what might have proved 
a fatal error in giving him an asylum so near the coasl ol France, whose 
people, inti 1 with the dream of glory through which he had so long 

led them, would be sure to respond enthusiastically to an appeal to rally to 
his support. 

The powers were soon to learn their error. While the Congress of 
Vienna, convened to restore the old constitution of Europe, was deliber- 
ating and disputing, its members were startled by the news that the de- 
throned emperor was again upon the soil of France, and that i\ apo | eon 
I ouis XVIII. was in full flight for the frontier. Napoleon Returns 
had landed on March 1, 1X15, and set out on his return to from E ba 
Paris, the army and the people rapidly gathering to his support. On the 
30th he entered the Tuileries in a nlaze of triumph, the citizens, thoroughly 
dissatisfied with their brief experience of Bourbon rule, going mad with 
enthusiasm in his welcome. 

Thus began the famous period of the " Hundred Days." The powers 
ile, hired Napoleon to be the "enemy of nations," and armed a half million 
of men for his final overthrow. The fate of his desperate attempt was 
:- ion decided. For the first time he was to meet the British in battle, and 
in Wellington to encounter the only man who had definitely made head 
against his legions. A British army was dispatched in all haste to Belgium, 
Blucher with his Prussians hastened to the same region, and the mighty 
final struggle was at hand. The persistent and unrelenting enemies of the 
Corsican conqueror, the British islanders, were destined to be the agents of 
his overthrow. 

The little kingdom of Belgium was the scene of the momentous contest 
that brought Napoleon's marvelous career to an end. Thither he led his 



9 8 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 

army, largely made up of new conscripts ; and thither the English and the 
Prussians hastened to meet him. On June 16, 1 8 1 5, the prelude to the 
The Gathering great battle took place. Napoleon met Bliicher at Ligny and 

of the Armies defeated him ; then, leaving Grouchy to pursue the Prussians, 

in Belgium j le turnec } a g a i ns t his island foes. On the same day Ney en- 
countered the forces of Wellington at Ouatre Bras, but failed to drive them 
back. On the 1 7th Wellington took a new position at Waterloo, and awaited 
there his great antagonist. 

June 1 8th was the crucial day in Napoleon's career, the one in which 
his power was to fall, never to rise again. Here we shall but sketch in out- 
line this famous battle, reserving a fuller account of it for our next chapter, 
The Terrible under the story of Wellington, the victor in the fray. The 

Defeat at stupendous struggle, as Wellington himself described it, 

was "a battle of giants." Lone: the result wavered in the 
balance. All day long the British sustained the desperate assaults of their 
antagonists. Terrible was the contest, frightful the loss of life. Hour 
after hour passed, charge after charge was hurled by Napoleon against the 
British lines, which still closed up over the dead and stood firm ; and it 
seemed as if night would fall with the two armies unflinchingly face to face, 
neither of them victor in the terrible fray. 

The arrival of Bliicher with his Prussians turned the scale. To Napo- 
leon's bitter disappointment Grouchy, who should have been close on the 
heels of the Prussians, failed to appear, and the weary and dejected French 
were left to face these fresh troops without support. Napoleon's Old Guard 
in vain flung itself into the gap, and the French nation long repeated in 
pride the saying attributed to the commander of this famous corps : 
"The guard dies, but it never surrenders." 

In the end the French army broke and fled in disastrous rout, three- 
fourths of the whole force being left dead, wounded, or prisoners, while all 
its artillery became the prize of the victors. Napoleon, pale and confused, 
was led by Soult from the battlefield. It was his last fight, 

His Fate * ' ^' s abdication Avas demanded, and he resigned the crown in 
favor of his son. A hopeless and unnerved fugitive, he fled 
from Paris to Rochefort, hoping to escape to America. But the British fleet 
held that port, and in despair he went on board a vessel of the fleet, trusting 
himself to the honor of the British nation. But the statesmen of England 
had no sympathy with the vanquished adventurer, from whose ambition 
Europe had suffered so terribly. He was sent as a state prisoner to the 
island of St. Helena, there to end his days. His final hour of glory came 
in 1842, when his ashes were brought in pomp and display to Paris. 



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WELLINGTON AT WATERLOO GIVING THE WORD TO ADVANCE 

This spirited illustration figures the final event in the mighty struggle at Waterloo, when the French, after hurling themselves a dozen 

ves upon a rock-bound shore, staggered back in despair, and Wellington 



times against the unyielding British ranks, like 
gave the magic word of command : " Let a] 



torm i 
the line adv 



CHAPTER V 

Nelson and Wellington, the Champions of England. 

FOR nearly twenty years went on the stupendous struggle between 
Napoleon theGreat and the powers of Europe, but in all that time, 
.md among the multitude of men who met the forces of France in 
battle, only two names emerge which the world cares to remember, those 
ol Horatio Nelson, the most famous of the admirals ol England, and Lord 
Wellington, who alone seemed able to overthrow the greatest military 
genius of modern times. On land the efforts ol Napoleon were seconded 
bythe intrepidity of a galaxy of heroes. Ney, Murat, Moreau, Massena, and 
other men of fame. At sea the story reads differently. That era of stress 
and strain raised no great admiral in the service of France; Englandand 
her ships were feebly commanded, and the fleet of Great Franceon 
Britain, under the daring Nelson, kept its proud place as an Sea 

mistress of the 

The first proof ol this came before the opening of the century, when 
Napoleon, led by the ardor of his ambition, landed in Egypt, with vague 
hopes of rivaling in the East the far-famed exploits of Alexander the 
Great. The fleet which bore him thither remained moored 
in Aboukir Bay, where Nelson, scouring the Mediterranean in cove rs the 
quest of it, first came in sight of its serried line of ships on Trench Fleet 
August I, 1798. One alternative alone dwelt in his cour- '"Aboukir 

& ' 7 Bay 

ageous soul, that of a heroic death or a glorious victory. 
'Before this time to-morrow 1 shall have gained a victory <>r Westmii 
Abbey," he said. 

In the mighty contest that follow 1 French had the advantage in 

numbers, alike of ships, guns, and men. They were drawn up in a strong and 
compact line of battle, moored in a manner that promised to bid defiance to 
a force double their own. They lay in an open roadstead, but had every 
advantage of situation, the British fleet being obliged to attack them in a 
position carefully chosen for defence. ( )nly the genius of Nelson enabled him 
10 overcome those advantages of the enemy. "If we succeed, what will the 
world say ?" asked Captain Berry, on hearing the admiral's plan of battle. 
" There is no if in the case," answered the admiral. " That we shall sm 
is certain : who may live to tell the story is a very different question." 

ioii 



io2 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 

The story of the " Battle of the Nile " belongs to the record of 
The Glorious eighteenth century affairs. All we need say here is that it 
Battle of the ended in a glorious victory for the English fleet. Of thirteen 
N,,e " ships of the line in the French fleet, only two escaped. Of 

four frigates, one was sunk and one burned. The British loss was 895 men. 
Of the French, 5,225 perished in the terrible fray. Nelson sprang, in a 
moment, from the position of a man without fame into that of the naval, 
hero of the world — as Dewey did in as famous a fray almost exactly a century 
later. Congratulations and honors were showered upon him, the Sultan of 
Turkey rewarded him with costly presents, valuable testimonials came from 
other quarters, and his own country honored him with the title of Baron 
Nelson of the Nile, and settled upon him for life a pension of ,£2,000. 

The first great achievement of Nelson in the nineteenth century was 
the result of a daring resolution of the statesmen of England, in their 
desperate contest with the Corsican conqueror. By his exploit at the Nile 
the admiral had very seriously weakened the sea-power of France. But 
there were powers then in alliance with France — Russia, Sweden and Den- 
mark — -which had formed a confederacy to make England respect their 
naval rights, and whose combined fleet, if it should come to the aid ol 
France, might prove sufficient to sweep the ships of England from the seas. 

The weakest of these powers, and the one most firmly allied to France, 
was Denmark, whose fleet, consisting of twenty-three ships of the line and 
about thirty-one frigates and smaller vessels, lay at Copenhagen. At any 
moment this powerful fleet might be put at the disposal of Napoleon. This 
possible danger the British cabinet resolved to avoid. A plan was laid to 
destroy the fleet of the Danes, and on the 12th of March, 1801, the British 
fleet sailed with the purpose of putting this resolution into effect. 
The Fleet Nelson, then bearing the rank of vice-admiral, went with 

Sails for the fleet, but only as second in command. To the disgust 

..open tagen Q £ ^ E n gi; s h p e0 pl e> Sir Hyde Parker, a brave and able 
seaman, but one whose name history has let sink into oblivion, was given 
chief command — a fact which would have insured the failure of the expedi- 
tion if Nelson had not set aside precedent, and put glory before duty. 
Parker, indeed, soon set Nelson chafing by long drawn-out negotiations, 
which proved useless, wasted time, and saved the Danes from being taken 
by surprise. When, on the morning of April 30th, the British fleet at 
length advanced through the Sound and came in sight of the Danish line 
of defence, they beheld formidable preparations to meet them. 

Eighteen vessels, including full-rigged ships and hulks, were moored in 
a line nearly a mile and a half in length, flanked to the northward by two 



NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENLGAND 103 

artificial islands mounted with sixty-eight heavy cannon and supplied with 
furnaces for heating shot. Near by lay two large block-ships. The Danish 
Across tin- harbor's mouth extended a massive chain, and Line of 
shore batteries commanded the channel. Outside the harbor's Def ence 
mouth were moored two 74-gun ships, a 40-gun frigate, and some smaller 
vessels. In addition to these defences, which stretched for nearly four 
miles in length, was the difficulty of the channel, always hazardous from its 
shoals, and now beaconed with falsi: buoys for the purpose of luring the 
British ships to destruction. 

With modern defences — rapid-fire guns and steel-clad batteries — the 
enterprise would have been hopeless, but the art of defence was then at a 
far lower level. Nelson, who led the van in the 74-gun ship Elephant, gazed 
on these preparations with admiration, but with no evidence of doubt as to 
the result. The British fleet consisted of eighteen line of battle ships, with 
a large number of frigates and other craft, and with this force, and his in- 
domitable spirit, he felt confident of breaking these formidable lines. 

At ten o'clock on the morning of April 2d the battle began, two of the 
British ships running aground almost before a gun was fired. The \ttack on 
At sight of this disaster Nelson instantly changed his plan of the Danish 
sailing, starboarded his helm, and sailed in, dropping anchor et 

within a cable's length of the Dannebrog, of 62 guns. The other ships fol- 
lowed his example, avoiding the shoals on which the fiellonaand ftussellhad 
grounded, and taking position at the close quarters of 100 fathoms from the 
Danish ships. 

A terrific cannonade followed, kept up by both sides with unrelenting 
fury for three hours, and with terrible effect on the contesting ships and 
their crews. At this juncture took place an event that has made Nelson's 
name immortal among naval heroes Admiral Parker, whose flag-ship lay 
at a distance from the hot fight, but who heard the incessant and furious fire 
and saw the grounded ships flying signals of distress, began to fear that Nel- 
son was in serious danger, from which it was his duty to withdraw him. At 
about one o'clock he reluctantly hoisted a signal for the action to cease. 

At this moment Nelson was pacing the quarter-deck of the Elephant, 
inspired with all the fury of the tight; " It is a warm business," he said to 
Colonel Stewart, who was on the ship with him ; "and any moment may lie 
the last of either of us; but, mark you, I would not for thousands be any- 
where else." 

As lie spoke the flag-lieutenant reported that the signal to cease action 
was shown on the mast-head of the flag-ship London, and asked if he should 
report it to the fleet. 



so4 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 

" No," was the stern answer ; " merely acknowledge it. Is our signal 
for 'close action ' still flying f" 

" Yes," replied the officer. 

" Then see that you keep it so," said Nelson, the stump 
Answered the of his amputated arm working as it usually did when he was 
Signal to agitated. " Do you know," he asked Colonel Stewart, " the 

meaning of signal No. 39, shown by Parker's ships?" 

" No. What does it mean ?" 

" To leave off action !" He was silent a moment, then burst out, 
" Now damn me if I do !" 

Turning to Captain Foley, who stood near him, he said : " Foley, you 
know I have only one eye ; I have a right to be blind sometimes." He raised 
his telescope, applied it to his blind eye, and said : " I really do not see the 
signal." 

On roared the guns, overhead on the Elephant still streamed the signal 
for "close action," and still the torrent of British balls rent the Danish ships. 
In half an hour more the fire of the Danes was fast weakening. In an hour 
it had nearly ceased. They had suffered frightfully, in ships and lives, and 
only the continued fire of the shore batteries now kept the contest alive. It 
was impossible to take possession of the prizes, and Nelson sent a flag ol 
truce ashore with a letter in which he threatened to burn the vessels, with 
all on board, unless the shore fire was stopped. This threat proved effec- 
tive, the fire ended, the great battle was at an end. 

At four o'clock Nelson went on board the London, to meet the admiral. 
He was depressed in spirit, and said : " I have fought contrary to orders, and 
may be hanged ; never mind, let them." 

There was no danger of this ; Parker was not that kind of man. He 
had raised the signal through fear for Nelson's safety, and now gloried in 
his success, giving congratulations where his subordinate looked for blame. 
The Danes had fought bravely and stubbornly, but they had no commander 
of the spirit and genius of Nelson, and were forced to yield to British pluck 
and endurance. Until June 13th, Nelson remained in the Baltic, watching 
the Russian fleet which he might still have to fight. Then came orders for 
his return home, and word reached him that he had been created Viscount 
Nelson for his services. 

There remains to describe the last and most famous of Nelson's 
exploits, that in which he put an end to the sea-power of France, by destroy- 
ing the remainder of her fleet at Trafalgar, and met death at the moment of 
victory. Four years had passed since the fight at Copenhagen. During 
much of that time Nelson had kept his fleet on guard off Toulon, impatiently 



NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 105 

waiting until the enemy should venture from that port of refuge. At length, 
the combined fleet of France and Spain, now in alliance, escaped his vigil- 
ance, and sailed to the West Indies to work havoc in the Nelson in Chase 
British colonics. He; followed them thither in all haste; and of the French 
subsequently, on their return to France, he chased them back eet 

across the seas, burning with eagerness to bring them to bay. 

On the 19th of < >ctober, 1805, the allied fleet put to sea from the 
harbor of Cadiz, confident that its great strength would enable it to m 
any force the British had upon the waxes. Admiral De Villeneuve, with 
thirty-three ships of the line and a considerable number of smaller craft, had 
orders to force the straits of Gibraltar, land troops at Naples, sweep 
British cruisers and comm the M nean, and then seek the 

port of Toulon to refit. As it turned out, he never reached the straits, his 
fleet meeting its fate before it could leave the Atlantic waves. Nelson had 
ched the coast of Europe again, and was close at hand when the doomed 
ships of the allies appeared. Two switt ocean scouts saw Tne A n ied 
the movements, and hastened to Lord Nelson with the wel- Fleet Leaves 
come news that the long-deferred moment was at hand. On ' z 
the 2 1st, the British fleet came within view, and the following signal was 
set on the mast-head of the flag-ship: 

"The French and Spaniards are out at last; they outnumber us in 
ships and guns and men ; we are on the eve of the greatest sea-fight in 
history." 

On came the ships, great lumbering craft, strangely unlike the war- 
vessels of to-day. Instead of the trim, grim, ' .\-\. steam-driven 
modern battle-ship, with its revolving turret, and great frowning, breech- 
loading guns, sending their balls through mil lir, tho bluff- 
bowed, ungainly hulks, with bellying sides towering like black walls abo 
the sea as if to make the largest mark pi for hostile shot, with a great 
show of muzzle-loading guns of small range, while overhead rose lofty sp 
and spreading sails. Ships they were that to-day would be sent to the 
bottom in five minutes of fight, but which, mated against others of the same 
build, were capable of giving a gallant account of themselvi 

It was off the shoals of Cape Trafalgar, near the southern 
extremity of Spain, that the two fleets met, and such a tornado ap ^ 

oi fire as has rarely been seen upon the ocean waves was poured 
from their broad and lofty sides. As they came together there floated from 
the masthead of the I . Nelson's flagship, that signal which has become 

the watchword of the British isles : " England expects that every man will 
do his duty." 



io6 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 

We cannot follow the fortunes of all the vessels in that stupendous 
fray, the most famous sea-fight in history. It must serve to follow the 
Victory in her course, in which Nelson eagerly sought to thrust himself into 
The "Victory" tne heart of the fight and dare death in his quest for victory. 
and Her Bril- He was not long in meeting his wish. Soon he found himself 
in a nest of enemies, eight ships at once pouring their fire 
upon his devoted vessel, which could not bring a gun to bear in return, 
the wind having died away and the ship lying almost motionless upon 
the waves. 

Before the Victory was able to fire a shot fifty of her men had fallen 
killed or wounded, and her canvas was pierced and rent till it looked like a 
series of fishing nets. But the men stuck to their guns with unyielding 
tenacity, and at length their opportunity came. A 68-pounder carronade, 
loaded with a round shot and 500 musket balls, was fired into the cabin 
windows of the Buccntaurc, with such terrible effect as to disable 400 men 
and 20 guns, and put the ship practically out of the fight. 

The Victory next turned upon the Neptune and the Redoubtable, of the 
enemy's fleet. The Neptune, not liking her looks, kept off, but she collided 
and locked spars with the Redoubtable, and a terrific fight began. On the 
opposite side of the Redoubtable came the British ship Temeraire, and 
opposite it again a second ship of the enemy, the four vessels lying bow to 
bow, and rending one another's sides with an incessant hail of balls. On 
the Victory the gunners were ordered to depress their pieces, that the balls 
should not go through and wound the Temeraire beyond. The muzzles of 
their cannon fairly touched the enemy's side, and after each shot a bucket 
of water was dashed into the rent, that they may not set fire to the vessel 
which they confidently expected to take as a prize. 

In the midst of the hot contest came the disaster already spoken of. 
Brass swivels were mounted in the French ship's tops to sweep with their 
fire the deck of their foe, and as Nelson and Captain Hardy paced together 
their poop deck, regardless of danger, the admiral suddenly fell.' A ball 
from one of these guns had reached the noblest mark on the fleet. 
The Great Battle "They have done for me at last, Hardy," the fallen 

and its Sad man said. 

" Don't say you are hit ! " cried Hardy in dismay. 

"Yes, my backbone is shot through." 

His words were not far from the truth. He never arose from that 
latal shot. Yet, dying as he was, his spirit survived. 

" I hope none of our ships have struck, Hardy,'' he feebly asked, in a 
later interval of the fight. 



AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 107 

•' No, my lord. There is small fear of that," 

" I'm a dead man, Hardy, but I'm glad of what you say. Whip them now 
you've got them. Whip them as they've never been whipped before." 

Another hour passed. Hardy came below again to say thai fourteen 
or fifteen of tin enemy's ships had struck. 

" That's better, though I bargained lor twenty," said the dying man. 
''And now, anchor, 1 lardy— anchor." 

" I suppose, my lord, that Admiral Collingwood will now take the dire, 
lion of affairs." 

"Not while 1 live," exclaim.-d Nelson, with a momentary return of 
energy. "Do you anchor, Hardy." 

"Then shall we make tb . :ny lord." 

•' Yes, for if 1 live, I'll anchor." 

That was the end. Five minutes later Horatio Nelson, victory for 
England's greatest sea ipion, w; dead. He had won Hn S iand and 

& & r „ , , Death for Her 

not " Victory and Westminster Abbej il victory and a Pam()US 

noble resting place in St. Paul's Cathedral. Admiral 

Collingwood did not anchor, but stood out to sea with the eighteen pri; 
of the hard fought fray. In the gale that followed many of the results of 
victory were lost, lour of the ships being retaken, some wrecked on shore, 
some foundering at sea. only four reaching British waters in Gibraltar Bay. 
But whatever was lost, Nelson's fame was secure, and the victory at Trafalgar 
is treasured as one of the most famous triumphs of British arms. 

The naval battle at Copenhagen, won by Nelson, was followed, six years 
later, by a combined land and naval expedition in which Wellington, Eng- 
land's other champion, took part. Again inspired by the fear thai Napoleon 
might use the Danish fleel for his own purposes, the British government, 
though al peace with Denmark, sent a fleet to Copenhagen, irded 

and captured the city, and the 1 >anish ships. A battle took place on 

land in which Wellington (then Sir Arthur Wellesley) won an easy victory 
and, captured 10,000 men. The whole business was an inglorious one, a 
dishonorable incident in a struggle in which the defeat of Napaleon si 
first, honor second Among the English themselves some defended it on the 
plea of policy, some called it piracy and murder. 

Not long afterwards England prepared to take a serious 
part on land in the desperate contest with Napoleon, and sent p !i fT 
a British force to Portugal, then held by the French army of 
invasion under Marshal Junot. This force, 10,000 strong, was commanded 
by Sir Arthur Wellesley, and landed July 30, 1808, at Mondego Bay. He 
was soon joined by General Spencer from Cadiz, with 13,000 men. 



ioS NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 

The French, far from home and without support, were seriously alarmed 
at this invasion, and justly so, for they met with defeat in a sharp battle at 
Vimeira, and would probably have been forced to surrender as prisoners of 
war had not the troops been called off from pursuit by Sir Harry Burrard, 
who had been sent out to supersede Wellesley in command. The end of it 
all was a truce, and a convention under whose terms the French troops 
were permitted to evacuate Portugal with their arms and baggage and return 
to France. This release of Junot from a situation which precluded escape 
so disgusted Wellesley that he threw up his command and returned to 
The Death of England. Other troops sent out under Sir John Moore and 
Sir John Sir David Baird met a superior force of French in Spain, and 

their expedition ended in disaster. Moore was killed while 
the troops were embarking to return home, and the memory of this affair 
has been preserved in the famous ode, " The burial of Sir John Moore," 
from which we quote : 

" We buried him darkly at dead of night, 
The sod with our bayonets turning, 
By the glimmering moonbeams' misty light ' 
And the lanterns dimly burning." 

In April, 1809, Wellesley returned to Portugal, now chief in command, 
to begin a struggle which was to continue until the fall of Napoleon. There 
were at that time about 20,000 British soldiers at Lisbon, while the French 
had in Spain more than 300,000 men, under such generals as Ney, Soult, and 
Victor. The British, indeed, were aided by a large number of natives in 
arms. But these, though of service as guerillas, were almost useless in reg- 
ular warfare. 

Wellesley was at Lisbon. Oporto, 170 miles north, was held by Mar- 
shal Soult, who had recently taken it. Without delay Wellington marched 
The Gallant thither, and drove the French outposts across the river Douro. 

Crossing of But in their retreat they burned the bridge of boats across 
the river, seized every boat they could find, and rested in 
security, defying their foes to cross. Soult, veteran officer though he was, 
fancied that he had disposed of Wellesley, and massed his forces on the sea- 
coast side of the town, in which quarter alone he looked for an attack. 

He did not know his antagonist. A few skiffs were secured, and a 
small party of British was sent across the stream. The French attacked 
them, but they held their ground till some others joined them, and by the 
time Soult was informed of the clanger Wellesley had landed a large force 
and controlled a good supply of boats. A battle followed in which the 
French were routed and forced to retreat. But the only road by which theit 



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NEl ' WELLINGTON. THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND m 

artillery or baggage could be moved had been seized b) l I Beresford, 

and was strongly held. In consequence Soult was forced to on all his 

wagons and cannon and make his escape by bye-roads into Spain. 

This signal victory was followed by another on fuly 27, 1S09, when 

Wellesley. with 20.000 British soldiers and about 40,000 Span- _. .„ 

. „ , . . The \ Ictory at 

ish allies, met a French army of 60,000 men at Talavera in Talaveraand 
Spain. The battle that succeeded lasted two days. The brunt the victor's 

. Reward 

of it fell upon the British, the Spaniards proving of little use, 

yet it ended in the defeat of the French, who retired unmolested, the British 

being too exhausted to pursue. 

The tidings of this victory were received with the utmost enthusiasm 
in England. It was shown by it that British valor could win battles against 
Napoleon's on land as well as on sea. Wellesley received the warmest 
thanks of the king, and, like Nelson, was rewarded by being raised to the 
peerage, being given the titles of Baron Douro of Wellesley and Viscount 
Wellington of Talavera. In future we shall call him by his historic title of 
Wellington. 

Men and supplies just then would have served Wellington better than 
titles. With strong support he could have marched on and taken Madrid. 
As it was, he hit obliged to retire upon the fortress of Badajoz, near the. 
frontier of Portugal. Spain was swarming with French soldiers, who were 
gradually collected there until they exceeded 350,000 men. Of these 80,000, 
under the command of Massena, were sent to act against the British. Before 
this strong force Wellington found it necessary to draw back, and the frontier 
fortresses of Almeida and Ciudad RodrigfO were taken bv the French. Well- 
ington's first stand was on the heights of Busaco, September, 1810. Here, 
with 30,000 men, he withstood all the attacks of the French, who in the end 
were forced to withdraw. Massena then tried to gain the road between 
Lisbon and ( )porto, whereupon Wellington quickly retreated towards Lisbon. 

The British general had during the winter been very usefully employed. 

The road by which Lisbon must be approached passes the village of Torres 

Iras, and here two strong lines of earthworks were con- „, ,„ 

' o _ \\ ellf niton's 

structed, some twenty-five miles in length, stretching from impregnable 

the sea to the Tagus, and effectually securing Lisbon against Unesat 

Torres \'eilriis 
attack. These works had been built with such secrecy and 

despatch that the French were quite ignorant of their existence, and 

Massena, marching in confidence upon tht Portuguese capital, was amazed 

ami chagrined on finding before him this formidable barrier. 

It was strongly defended, and all his efforts to take it proved in vain. 

He then tried to reduce the British by famine, but in this he was equally 



H2 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 

baffled, food being poured into Lisbon from the sea. He tried by a feigned 
retreat to draw the British from their works, but this stratagem failed of 
effect, and for four months more the armies remained inactive. At length 
the exhaustion of the country of provisions made necessary a real retreat, 
and Massena withdrew across the Spanish frontier, halting near Salamanca. 
Of the proud force with which Napoleon proposed to " drive the British 
leopards into the sea," more than half had vanished in this luckless cam- 
paign. 

But though the French army had withdrawn from Portugal, the frontier 
fortresses were still in French hands, and of these Almeida, near the 

borders, was the first to be attacked by Wellington's forces. 
The Siege and . . . . . . .,..,, 

Capture of Massena advanced with 50,000 men to its relief, and the two 

the Por- armies met at Fuentes-de-Onoro, May 4, 1811. The French 

made attacks on the 5th and 6th, 'but were each time repulsed, 

Fortresses ^ r ' 

and on the 7th Massena retreated, sending orders to the gov- 
ernor of Almeida to destroy the fortifications and leave the place. 

Another battle was fought in front of Badajoz of the most sanguinary 
character, the total loss of the two armies being 15,000 killed and wounded. 
For a time the British seemed threatened with inevitable defeat, but the 
fortune of the day was turned into victory by a desperate charge. Subse- 
quently Ciuclad Rodrigo was attacked, and was carried by storm, in January, 
1812. Wellington then returned to Badajoz, which was also taken by 
storm, after a desperate combat in which the victors lost 5,000 men, a number 
exceeding that of the whole French garrison. 

These continued successes of the British were seriously out of conso- 
nance with the usual exploits of Napoleon's armies. He was furious with 
his marshals, blaming them severely, and might have taken their place in 
the struggle with Wellington but that his fatal march to Russia was about 
Wellington to begin. The fortress taken, Wellington advanced into 

WinsatSala= Spain, and on July 21st encountered the French army under 
mancaand Marmont before the famous old town of Salamanca. The 

Enters Madrid . . r . 

battle, one ot the most stubbornly contested in which Welling- 
ton had yet been engaged, ended in the repulse of the French, and on August 
1 2th the British army marched into Madrid, the capital of Spain, from 
which King Joseph Bonaparte had just made his second flight. 

Wellington's next effort was a siege of the strong fortress of Burgos. 
This proved the one failure in his military career, he being obliged to raise 
the siege after several weeks of effort. In the following year he was strongly 
reinforced, and with an army numbering nearly 200,000 men he marched on 
the retreating enemy, meeting them at Vittoria, near the boundary of 



NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGL 

France and Spain, on June 21, 1813. The French wop- for the first time 
in this war in a minority. They v heavily encumbered with baggag 

the spoils of their occupation of Spain. The battle ended in 

1 . . , Vittonaand the 

a complete victor}' for Wellington, who captured 157 cannon p yre nees 

and a vast quantity of plunder, including the spoils ol Madrid 

and of the 1 of the kings of Spain. The specie, of which a large sum 

was taken, quickly disappeared among the troops, and failed to reach the 
treasure chests of the army. 

The French were now everywhere on the retreat. Soult, after a vigor- 
ous effort to drive the British from the passes of the Pyrenees, withdrew, 
and Wellington and his army soon stood on tin; soil of France. A victory 
over Soult at Nivelle, and aseriesof successes in the following spring, ended 
the Ion-- Peninsular War, the abdication of Napoleon closing the Ion- and 
terrible drama of battle. In the whole six years of struggle Wellington had 
not once been defeated on the battlefield. 

Mis military career had not y 1 d. His great day of glory was 

still to come, that in which he was to meet Napoleon himself in the field, 
and, for the first time in the history of the great Corsican, drive back his 
army in utter rout. 

A year or more had passed since the events just narrated. In June, 
1815, Wellington found himself at the head of an army some 100,000 strong, 
encamped around Brussels, the capital of Belgium. It was a The Gathering 
mingled group of British, Dutch, Belgian, Hanoverian, Ger- oftheForces 
man, and oilier troops, hastily got together, and many of them 
not safely to be depended upon. Of the British, numbers had never be 
under lire. Marshal Blucher, with an equal force of Prussian troops, was 
near at hand; the two forces prepared to meet the rapidly advancing 
Napoleon. 

We have already told of the defeat of Blucher at Ligny, and the attack 
on Wellington at Quatre Bras. On the evening of the 17th the army, re- 
treating from Quatre Bras, encamped on the historic field of Waterloo in a 
drenching rain, that turned the roads into streams, the fields into swamps. 
!.\11 night long the rain came down, the sold airing the Hood with what 

patience they could. In the morning it ceased, tiros were kindled, and active 
preparations began for the terrible struggle at hand. 

Here ran a shallow valley, bounded by two ridges, the . 

-" & ' the Battlefield 

northern of which was occupied by the British, while Napoleon ot - \v ate rloo 

ted his army on its arrival along the southern ridge On 

the slope before the British centre was the white-walled farm house of La 

Have Sainte, and in front of the right wing the chateau of Hougoumont, 



U4 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 

with its various stout stone buildings. Both of these were occupied by men 
of Wellington's army, and became leading points in the struggle of the day. 

It was nine o'clock in the morning before the van-guard of the French 
army made its appearance on the crest of the southern ridge. By half-past 
ten 61,000 soldiers, — infantry, cavalry, and artillery — lay encamped in full 
sight. About half-past eleven came the first attack of that remarkable day, 
during which the French waged an aggressive battle, the British stood on 
the defensive. 

This first attack was directed against Hougoumont, around which there 

The Desperate was a desperate contest. At this point the affray went on, in 

Charges of successive waves of attack and repulse, all day long; yet still 

the French ^ British held the buildings, and all the fierce valor of the 

French failed to gain them a foothold within. 

About two o'clock came a second attack, preceded by a frightful can- 
nonade upon the British left and centre. Four massive columns, led by 
Ney, poured steadily forward straight for the ridge, sweeping upon and 
around the farm-stead of La Haye Sainte, but met at every point by the 
sabres and bayonets of the British lines. Nearly 24,000 men took part in 
this great movement, the struggle lasting more than an hour before the 
French staggered back in repulse. Then from the French lines came a 
stupendous cavalry charge, the massive columns composed of no less than 
forty squadrons of cuirassiers and dragoons, filling almost all the space 
between Hougoumont and La Haye Sainte as they poured like a torrent 
upon the British lines. Torn by artillery, rent by musketry ; checked, 
reformed ; charging again, and again driven back ; they expended their 
strength and their lives on the infantry squares that held their ground with 
the grimmest obstinacy. Once more, now strengthened by the cavalry 
of the Imperial Guard, they came on to carnage and death, shattering 
themselves against those unyielding squares, and in the end repulsed with 
frightful loss. 

The day was now well advanced, it being half-past four in the after- 
noon ; the British had been fearfully shaken by the furious efforts of the 
F"rench ; when, emerging from the woods at St. Lambert, 

Blucher's appeared the head of a column of fresh troops. Who were 

Prussians rr t r , 

and the they? Blucher's Prussians, or Grouchy's pursuing French? 

Charge of On the answer to this question depended the issue of that 

Old Guard terrible day. The question was soon decided ; they were the 

Prussians ; no sign appeared of the French ; the hearts of the 

British beat high with hope and those of the French sank low in despair, 

for these fresh troops could not fail to decide the fate of that mighty 



KELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 115 

field oi battle. Soon the: final struggle came. Napoleon, driven to despera- 
tion, launch) d his -rand reserve corps, the far-famed Imperial Guard, upon 
his enemies. On they come, with Ney at their head; on them pours a 
terrible torrent of flame; from a distance the front ranks appear stationary, 
but only because they meet a death-line as they come, and fall in bleeding 
rows. Then on them, in a wild charge, rush the British Foot Guards, take 
them in flank, and soon all is over. " The Guard dies, but never surrenders," 
says their commander. Die they do, few of them surviving to take part in 
that mad flight which swept Napoleon from the field and closed the fatal 
day of Waterloo. England has won the great victory, now nearly a century 
old, and Wellington from that day of triumph takes rank with the greatest 
of British heroes. 



CHAPTER VI. 

From the Napoleonic Wars to the Revolution of 1830 

THE terrific struggle of the "Hundred Days," which followed Napo- 
leon's return from Elba and preceded his exile to St. Helena, made 
a serious break in the deliberations of the Congress of Vienna, con- 
vened for the purpose of recasting the map of Europe, which Napoleon 
had so sadly transformed, of setting aside the radical work of the French 
A Quarter Revolution, and, in a word, of turning back the hands of the 

Century of clock of time. Twenty-five years of suck turmoil and volcanic 
disturbance as Europe had rarely known were at an end ; the 
ruling powers were secure of their own again ; the people, worn-out with 
the long and bitter struggle, welcomed eagerly the return of rest and peace ; 
and the emperors and kings deemed it a suitable time to throw overboard 
the load of new ideas under which the European "ship of state " seemed 
to them likely to founder. 

The Congress of Vienna was, in its way, a brilliant gathering. It 
included, mainly as handsome ornaments, the emperors of Russia and 
Austria, the kings of Prussia, Denmark, Bavaria and Wurtemberg ; and, as 
its working element, the leading statesmen of Europe, including the Eng- 
lish Castlereagh and Wellington, the French Talleyrand, the 
^•ViTifnT 8 Prussian Hardenberg, and the Austrian Metternich. Checked 
in its deliberations for a time by Napoleon's fierce hundred 
days' death struggle, it quickly settled down to work again, having before 
it the vast task of undoing the mighty results of a quarter of a century of 
revolution. For the French Revolution had broadened into an European 
revolution, with Napoleon and his armies as its great instruments. The 
whole continent had been sown thickly during the long era of war with the 
Napoleonic ideas, and a crop of new demands and conditions had grown up 
not easily to be uprooted. 

Reaction was the order of the day in the Vienna Congress. The 
shaken power of the monarchs was to be restored, the map of Europe to be 
readjusted, the people to be put back into the submissive condition which 
they occupied before that eventful 1789, when the States-General of France 
began its momentous work of overturning the equilibrium of the world. 



FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 117 

As for the people, deeply infected as they were with the new 
liberty and the rights of man, which had made their way R Urop e After 
far beyond the borders of France, they were for the time worn- Napoleon's 
out with strife and turmoil, and settled hack supinely to 
enjoy the welcome era of rest, leaving their fate in the hands of the astute 
plenipotentiaries who were gathered in their wisdom at Vienna. 

These worthy tools of the monarchs had an immense task before 
them — too large a one, as it proved. It was easy to talk about restorin 
the nations the territory they had possessed before Napoleon began his 
career as ;i map-maker; but it was not easy to do so except at the cost of 
new wars. The territories of many of the powers had been added to by 
the French emperor, and they were not likely to give up their new posses- 
sions without a vigorous protest. In German) - the changes had been 
enormous. Napoleon had found there more than three hundred separate 
states, some no larger than a small American count)-, yet each possessed of 
the paraphernalia of a court and sovereign, a capital, an army and a public 
debt. And these were feebly combined into the phantasm known as the 
Holy Roman Empire. When Napoleon had finished his work this empire 
had ceased to exist, except as a tradition, and the great galaxy of soven 
states was reduced to thirty-nine. These included the gnat dominions of 
Austria and Prussia; the smaller states of Bavaria, Saxony, Hanover and 
Wurtemberg, which Napoleon had raised into kingdoms; and a vastly 
ced group of minor states. The work done here it was somewhat 
dangerous to meddle with. The small potentates of Germany were like so 
many bull-dogs, glaring jealously across their new borders, and read) - to fly 
at one another's throats at any suggestion of a change. The 
utmost they would yield was to be united into a confederacy he\ orkof 

1 ■ . . , J the Congress 

called the Bund, with a Diet meeting at Frankfurt. But 

as the dele- the Diet were given no law-making power, the Bund 

became an empty farce. 

The great powers took care to regain their lost possessions, or to 
replace them with an equal amount of territory. Prussia and Austria spread 
out again to their old size, though they did not cover quite the old ground. 
Most of their domains in Poland were given up, Prussia getting new terri- 
tory in Wi I ■ rermany and Austria in Italy. Their provinces in Poland were 
ceded to Alexander of Russia, who added to them some of his own Polish 
dominions, ami formed a new kingdom of Poland, lie bring its king. So in a 
shadow)- way Poland was brought to life again. England got for her share in 
the spoils a number of French and Dutch colonies, including Malta and the 
Cape Colony in Africa. Thuseach of thegreat powers repaid itself for its losses. 



ii 8 FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO \8 3 o 

In Italy a variety of changes were made. The Pope got back the: 
Scates of the Church ; Tuscany was restored to its king ; the same was the 

case with Naples, King Murat being driven from his throne 
andSpahi*' an< ^ P ut to death. Piedmont, increased by the Republic of 

Genoa, was restored to the king of Sardinia. Some smaller 
states were formed, as Parma, Modena, and Lucca. Finally, Lombardy and 
Venice, much the richest regions of Italy, were given to Austria, which 
country was made the dominant power in the Italian peninsula. 

Louis XVIII., the Bourbon king, brother of Louis XVI., who had 
reigned while Napoleon was at Elba, came back to the throne of France. 
The title of Louis XVII. was given to the poor boy, son of Louis XVI., 
who died from cruel treatment in the dungeons of the Revolution. In Spain 
the feeble Ferdinand returned to the throne which he had given up without 
a protest at the command of Napoleon. Portugal was given a monarch of 
its old dynasty. All seemed to have floated back into the old conditions 
again. 

As for the rights of the people, what had become of them ? Had they 
been swept away and the old wrongs of the people been brought back ? Not 
quite. The frenzied enthusiasm for liberty and human rights of the past 

twenty-five years could not go altogether for nothing. The 
of Man * lingering relics of feudalism had vanished, not only from 

France but from all Europe, and no monarch or congress could 
bring them back again. In its place the principles of democracy had spread 
from France far among the peoples of Europe. The principle of class 
privilege had been destroyed in France, and that of social equality had 
replaced it. The principle of the liberty of the individual, especially in his 
religious opinions, and the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people, had 
been proclaimed. These had still a battle before them. They needed to 
fight their way. Absolutism and the spirit of feudalism were arrayed 
against them. But they were too deeply implanted in the minds of the 
people to be eradicated, and their establishment as actual conditions has 
been the most important part of the political development of the nineteenth 
century. 

Revolution was the one thing that the great powers of Europe feared 
and hated ; this was the monster against which the Congress of Vienna 
directed its efforts. The cause of quiet and order, the preservation of the 
established state of things, the authority of rulers, the subordination of 
peoples, must be firmly maintained, and revolutionary disturbers must be put 
down with a strong hand. Such was the political dogma of the Congress. 
And yet, in spite of its assembled wisdom and the principles it promul- 




James watt-The Father of the Steam Engine 

11 ' S '.n t ,h e » S r eam ""I' 1 " 1 'u a ' ' he w ™ derfu ' productive progress of recent times is largely dw, and 
to the famous Scotch engineer, James Watt, belongs the honor of inventing The first 
effective steam engine. His idea of condensing the steam from his engine in 
a separate vessel came to him in 1765, and with this fortunate concep- 
tion began the wonderful series of improvements which have 
given us the magnificent engine of to-dav 



FROM THE NAPOLOENIC WARS TO / 121 

grated, i ■ nineteenth century has been especially the century of revolutions, 
actual or virtual, the resuh being an extraordinary growth in the liberl 
and prerogatives of the people. 

The plan devised by the Congress for the suppression ol revolution 
was the establishment ol an association ol monarchs, which became known 
as tlic Holy Alliance. Alexander of Russia, Francis of 
Austria, and Frederick William of Prussia formed a cove- Alliance 
nant to rule in accordance- with the precepts ol the Bible, to 
stand by each other in a true fraternity, to rule their subjects as loving 
parents, and to see that peace, justice, and religion should flourish in their 
dominions. An ideal scheme it was, but its promulgators soon won the 
name of hypocrites and the hatred of those whom they were to deal with 
on the principle of love and brotherhood. Reaction was the watchword. 
absolute sovereignty the purpose, the eradication of the doctrine of popular 
sovereignty the sentiment, which animated these powerful monarchs; and 
the Holy Alliance meant practically the determination to unite their fore 
against democracy and revolution wherever they should show themselves. 

It was not long before the people began to move. The attempt to 
re-establish absolute governments shook them out of their sluggish quiet. 
Revolution lifted its head again in the face of the Holy devolution j„ 
Alliance, its first field being Spain. Ferdinand VII., on Spain and 
returning to his throne, had but one purpose in his weak ap es 
mind, which was to rule as an autocrat, as his ancestors had done. Ib- 
swore to govern according to a constitution, and began his reign with a 
perjury. The patriots had formed a constitution during his absence, and 
this he set aside and never replaced by another. On the contrary, he set 
out to abolish all the reforms made by Napoleon, and to restore the monas- 
teries, to bring back the inquisition, and to prosecute the patriots. Five 
\ ears of this reaction made the state of affairs in Spain so intolerable that 
the liberals refused to submit to it any longer. In [820 th in revolt, 

and the king, a coward under all his show of bravery, at once gave way and 
restored the constitution he hail set aside. 

The shock given the Holy Alliance by the news from Spain was quickly 
followed by another coming from Naples. The Bourbon king who had 
been replaced upon the throne of that country, another Ferdinand, was one 
of the most despicable men of his not greatly esteemed race. His govern- 
ment, while weak, was harshly oppressive. but it did not need a revolution 
to frighten this royal dastard. A mere general celebration of the victory 
of the liberals in Spain was enough, ami in his alarm he hastened to give 
his people a constitution similar to that which the Spaniards had gained. 



I22 FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO iSjo 

These awkward affairs sadly disturbed the equanimity of those states- 
men who fancied that they had fully restored the divine right of kings. 
Metternich, the Austrian advocate of reaction, hastened to call a new Con- 
Metternich g ress . m 1820, and another in 1S21. The question he put to 

and His Con= these assemblies was, Should revolution be permitted, or should 

gresses Europe interfere in Spain and Naples, and pledge herself to 

uphold everywhere the sacred powers of legitimate monarchs ? His old 
friends of the Holy Alliance backed him up in this suggestion, both Con- 
gresses adopted it, a policy of repression of revolutions became the pro- 
gramme, and Austria was charged to restore what Metternich called 
"order" in Naples. 

He did so. The liberals of Naples were far too weak to oppose the 
power of Austria. Their government fell to pieces as soon as the Austrian 
army appeared, and the impotent but cruel Ferdinand was made an absolute 
kiny- asrain. The radicals in Piedmont started an insurrection which was 
quickly put down, and Austria became practically the lord and master of Italy. 
Proud of his success, Metternich called a new Congress in 1822, in 
which it was resolved to repeat in Spain what had been done in Naples. 
How Order was France was now made the instrument of the absolutists. A 

Restored in French army marched across the Pyrenees, put down the gov- 
pain ernment of the liberals, and gave the king back his despotic 

rule. He celebrated his return to power by a series of cruel executions. The 
Holy Alliance was in the ascendant, the liberals had been bitterly repaid for 
their daring, terror seized upon the liberty-loving peoples, and Europe 
seemed thrown fully into the grasp of the absolute kings 

Only in two regions did the spirit of revolt triumph during this period 
of reaction. These were Greece and Spanish America. The 

in Greece historic land of Greece had long been in the hands of a des- 

potism with which even the Holy Alliance was not in sympa- 
thy — that of Turkey. Its very name, as a modern country, had almost van- 
ished, and Europe heard with astonishment in 182 1 that the descendants of 
the ancient Greeks had risen against the tyranny under which they had been 
crushed for centuries. 

The struggle was a bitter one. The sultan was atrocious in his cruel- 
ties. In the island of Chios alone he brutally murdered 20,000 Greeks. But 
the spirit of the old Athenians and Spartans was in the people, and they 
kept on fighting in the face of defeat. For four years this went on, while 
the powers of Europe looked on without raising a hand. Some of their 
people indeed took part, among them Lord Byron, who died in Greece in 
1824 ; but the governments failed to warm up to their duty. 



FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 123 

Their apathy vanished in 1825, when the sultan, growing weary of the 
struggle, and hem on bringing it to a rapid L-m.1. called in the aid of his pow 
ful vassal, Mehemed Ali, Pasha of Egypt. Mehemed responded by sending a 
strong arm)' under his son Ibrahim, who landed in the Mon a (the anci< 
Peloponnesus), where he treated the people with shocking cruelty. 

A year of this was as much as Christian Europe could stand. England 
first aroused herself. Canning, the English prime minister, _. „ 

&' & ' The Powers 

persuaded Nicholas, who had just succeeded Alexander as Come to the 

Czar of Russia, to join with him in stopping this horrible busi- Rescue of 

. Greece 

ness. France nt her aid, and the combined powers 

warned Ibrahim to cease his cruel work. On his refusal, the fleets of Eng- 
land and France attacked and annihilated the Turkish-Egyptian fleet in the 

■ of Navarino. 

The Sultan still hesitated, and the czar, impatient at the delay, deci, 
war and invaded with his army the Turkish provinces on the Danube. The 
next year, 1829, the Russians crossed the Balkans and descended upon Con- 
stantinople. That city was in such imminent danger of capture that the 
obstinacy of the sultan completely disappeared and he humbly consented to 
all the demands of the powers. Servia, Moldavia and Wallachia, the chief 
provinces of the Balkan peninsula, were put under the rule of Christian 
governors, and the independence of Greece was fully acknowledged. Prince 
Otto of Bavaria was made king, and ruled until 1862. In Greece iib- 
eralism had conquered, but elsewhere in Europe the reaction established by 
the Congress of Vienna still held sway. 

The people merely bided their time. The good seed sown could 
not fail to bear fruit in its season. The spirit of revolution was in the air, 
and any attempt to rob the people of the degree of liberty 
which they enjoyed was very likely to precipitate a revolt against ® luUon 
the tyranny of courts and kings. It came at length in France, 
that country the ripest among the nations for revolution. Louis XVIII. 
an easy, good-natured old soul, of kindly disposition towards the people, 
passed from life in 1824, and was succeeded by his brother, Count of 
Artois, as Charles X. 

The new king had been the head of the ultra-royalist faction, an advo- 
cate of despotism and feudalism, and quickly doubled the hate which the 
people bore him. Louis XVIII. had been liberal in his Charles X. and 
policy, and had given increased privileges to the people. His Attempt 
Under Charles reaction set in. A vast sum of money was at Despotism 
voted to the nobles to repay their losses during the Revolution. Steps 
were taken to muzzle the press ami gag the universities. This was 



124 FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 

more than the Chamber of Deputies was willing to do, and it was dis- 
solved. But the tyrant at the head of the government went on, blind 
to the signs in the air, deaf to the people's voice. If he could not get 
laws from the Chamber, he would make them himself in the old arbitary 
fashion, and on July 26, 1830, he issued, under the advice of his prime 
minister, four decrees, which limited the list of voters and put an end to 
the freedom of the press. Practically the constitution was set aside, the 
work of the Revolution ignored, and absolutism re-established in France. 

King Charles had taken a step too far. He did not know the spirit of 
the French. In a moment Paris blazed into insurrection. Tumult arose 
on every side. Workmen and students paraded the streets with enthusi- 
astic cheers for the constitution. But under their voices there were soon 
heard deeper and more ominous cries. "Down with the ministers !" came 
the demand. And then, as the throng increased and grew more violent, 
arose the revolutionary slogan, " Down with the Bourbons !" The infatu- 
ated old king was amusing himself in his palace of St. Cloud, 
The Revolution an j ^jj nQt discover t h at t h e crown was tottering upon his 
in Paris & r 

head. He knew that the people of Paris had risen, but 

looked upon it as a passing ebullition of French temper. He did not awake 
to the true significance of the movement until he heard that there had been 
fighting between his troops and the people, that many of the citizens lay 
dead in the streets, and that the soldiers had been driven from the city 
which remained in the hands of the insurrectionists. 

Then the old imbecile, who had fondly fancied that the Revolution of 
1789 could be set aside by a stroke of his pen, made frantic efforts to lay 
the demon he had called into life. He hastily cancelled the tyrannical 
decrees. Finding that this would not have the desired effect, he abdicated 
the throne in favor of his grandson. But all was of no avail. France had 
had enough of him and his house. His envoys were turned back from the 
gates of Paris unheard. Remembering the fate of Louis XVI., his unhappy 
brother, Charles X., turned his back upon France and hastened to seek a 
refuo-e in England. 

Meanwhile a meeting of prominent citizens had been held in Paris, the 
result of their deliberations being that Charles X. and his heirs should be 
deposed and the crown offered to Louis Philippe, duke of Orleans. There 
Louis Philippe na ^ been a Louis Philippe in the Revolution of 1789, a radical 
Chosen as member of the royal house of Bourbon, who, under the title 
of Egalite, had joined the revolutionists, voted for the death 
of Louis XVI., and in the end had his own head cut off by the guillotine. 
His son as a young man had served in the revolutionary army and had 



FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 125 

been one of its leaders in the important victors- of Jemappes. But when 
the terror came he hastened from France, which had become a very unsafe 
place for one of his Mood. He had the reputation of being liberal in his views, 
and was the first man thought of for the vacant crown When the Chambei 
of Deputies met in August anil offered it to him, he did not hesitate to 
accept. He swore to observe and reign under the constitution, and took 
the throne under the title of Louis Philippe, king of the French. Thus 
speedily and happily ended t I id Revolution in France. 

Hut Paris again proved itself the political centre of Europe. The 
deposition of Charles X. was like a stone thrown into the seething waters 
of European politics, and its effects spread far and wide be- Effect in r-urope 
yond the borders of France. The nations had I iund of the Revo- 

hand and foot l>y the Congress of Vienna. The people had utlon 
writhed uneasily in their fetters, hut now in more than ality th< 

in their might to break them, here demanding a greater degree of liberty, 
there overthrowing the government. 

The latter was the case in Belgium. Its had sintered severely 

from the work of the Congress ol Vienna Without ever a pretence of 
consulting their wishes, their country had been incorporated with Holland 
as the kingdom of the Netherlands, the two countries being fused into one 
under a king of the old Dutch II Orange. The idea was good 

enough in itself. It was intended to make a kin enough to 

help keep France in order. Hut an attempt these two sta'eswas like 

an endeavor to mix oil and water. The people ol the two countries had lot 
since drifted apart from each other, and had irreconcilable ideas and inter- 
-. Holland was a colonizing and commercial country, Belgium an indus- 
trial country ; Holland was Protestant, Belgium was Catholic ; Holland was 
Teutonic in blood, Belgium was a mixture ol the- Teutonic and French, 
but wholly French in feeling ami customs. 

The Belgians, therefore, were generally discontented with the act of 
fusion, and in 1830 they imitated the French by a revolt against ti, c Belgian 
King William of Holland. A tumult followed in Brussels, I'pnsinxand 
which ended in the Dutch soldiers being driven from the city. ts su l 
Kin-- William, finding that the Belgians insisted on independence, di 
to bring them back to their alle force of arms. The powers 

Europe now took the matter in hand, and, after some difference of opinion, 
decided to -rant the Belgians the independence they demanded. This was a 
meddling with his royal authority to which Kin- William did not propose; to 
submit, but when the navy 1 I Britain and the army of France ap- 

proached his borders he changed his mind, and sim j Holland and Bel- 



126 FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 

gium have gone their own way under separate kings. A limited monarchy, 

with a suitable constitution, was organized for Belgium by the powers, and 

Prince Leopold, of the German house of Saxe-Coburg, was placed upon the 

throne. 

The Movements The spirit of revolution extended into Germany and 

in Germany Italy, but only with partial results. Neither in Austria nor 

and ta y Prussia did the people stir, but in many of the smaller states 

a demand was made for a constitution on liberal lines, and in every instance 

the princes had to give way. Each of these states gained a representative 

form of government, the monarchs of Prussia and Austria alone retaining 

their old despotic power. 

In Italy there were many signs of revolutionary feeling ; but Austria 

still dominated that peninsula, and Metternich kept a close watch upon the 

movements of its people. There was much agitation. The great secret 

society of the Carbonari sought to combine the patriots of all Italy in a 

grand stroke for liberty and union, but nothing came of their efforts. In 

the States of the Church alone the people rose in revolt against their rulers, 

but they were soon put down by the Austrians, who invaded their territory, 

dispersed their weak bands, and restored the old tyranny. The hatred of the 

Italians for the Austrians grew more intense, but their time had not yet 

come; they sank back in submission and awaited a leader and an opportunity. 

There was one country in which the revolution in France called forth a 

more active response, though, unhappily, only to double the weight of the 

chains under which its people groaned. This was unfortunate 
The Condition „ . . ' . 

of Poland r oland ; once a great and proud kingdom, now dismembered 

and swallowed up by the land-greed of its powerful neighbors. 
It had been in part restored by Napoleon, in his kingdom of Warsaw, and 
his work had been in a measure recognized by the Congress of Vienna. The 
Czar Alexander, kindly in disposition and moved by pity for the unhappy 
Poles, had re-established their old kingdom, persuading Austria and Prussia 
to give up the bulk of their Polish territory in return for equal areas else- 
where. He gave Poland a constitution, its own army, and its own adminis- 
tration, making himself its king, but promising to rule as a constitutional 
monarch. 

This did not satisfy the Poles. It was not the independence they 
craved. They could not forget that they had been a great power in Europe 

when Russia was still the weak and frozen duchy of Muscovy. 
the Poles When the warm-hearted Alexander died and the cold-hearted 

Nicholas took his place, their discontent grew to dangerous 
proportions. The news of the outbreak in France was like a firebrand 



FROM THE NAPOLEONh W.IRS TO 1830 127 

thrown in their midst. In November, 1830. ;i few young hot-heads sounded 
the note of revolt, and Warsaw rose in insurrection against the Russians. 
For a time they were successful. Constantine, the czar's brother 

governor of Poland, was by the riot, and deserted the capital 

leaving the revolutionists in full control. Towards the frontier he hasti 
winged by alarm, while the provinces rose in rebellion behind him as he 

d Less than a week hail passed before the Russian power was with- 
drawn from Poland, and iis pi ople were once more lords of their own land 
'1 hey set up a provisional government in Warsaw, ami prepared to defend 
themselv< s against the- armies that were sure to come. 

What was needed now was unity. A single fixed and resolute purp 
under able and suitable leaders, formed the only conceivable condition of 
sunv,,. But Poland was, of all countries, the least capable 
of such unit). The landed nobility was full of its old feudal o( u n j ty 
notions; the di ol the city was inspired by modern 

sentiments. They could not agree; they quarreled in and court, 

while their hasty levies of troops were marching to meet the Russians in 
the field. Under such conditions success was a thing beyond hope. 

Yet the Poles fought well. Kosciusko, their former hero, would have 
been proud of their courage and willingness to die for their country Hut 

1st the powerful ami ably led Russian armies their gallantry was of no 
avail, and their lack of unity fatal. In May, 1831, they were overwhelmed 
at Ostrolenka by the Russian hosts, In September a traitor betrayed 
Warsaw and the Russian army entered its gal [Tie volt was at an 

end, and Poland again in fetters. 

Nicholas the Czar fancied that he had spoiled tl, pie by kindness 

and clemency. They should not be spoiled in that way any longer. Under 
his harsh decrees the Kingdom of Poland vanished. He 
ordeied that it should be made a Russian province, and held p | an( j 
by a Russian army of occupatioa The very language of the 

. was forbidden to be spoken, and their religion was to be replaced by 
the Orthodox Russian faith. Those brief months of revolution ami inde- 
pendence were fatal to the liberty-loving people. Since then, except during 
their brief revolt in 1N63. they have lain in fetters at the feet of Russia, 
nothing remaining to them but their patriotic memories and their undying 
liration for freedom and independence. 



CHAPTER VII. 
Bolivar, the Liberator of Spanish America. 

IN the preceding chapter mention was made of two regions in which the 
spirit of revolt triumphed during the period of reaction after the Napo- 
leonic wars — Greece and Spanish America. The revolt in Greece was 
there described ; that in Spanish America awaits description. It had its 
hero, one of the great soldiers of the Spanish race, perhaps the greatest 
and ablest of guerilla leaders ; " Bolivar the Liberator," as he was known on 
his native soil. 

Spain had long treated her colonists in a manner that was difficult for a 
How Spain high-spirited people to endure. Only two thoughts seemed 

Treated Her to rule in their management, the one being to derive from the 
colonies all possible profit for the government at home, the 
other to make use of them as a means by which the leaders in Spain could 
pay their political debts. The former purpose was sought to be carried out 
by severe taxation, commercial restriction, and the other methods in which 
a short-sighted country seeks to enrich itself by tying the hands and check- 
ing the industries of its colonists. To achieve the latter purpose all im- 
portant official positions in the colonies were held by natives of Spain. 
Posts in the government, in the customs, in all salaried offices were given 
to strangers, who knew nothing of the work they were to do or the con- 
ditions of the country to which they were sent, and whose single thought 
was to fill their purses as speedily as possible and return to enjoy their 
wealth in Spain. 

All this was galling to the colonists, who claimed to be loyal Span- 
iards , and they rebelled in spirit against this swarm of 
o*thTpeo'°e numan locusts which descended annually upon them, practic- 
ing every species of extortion and fraud in their eagerness to 
grow rich speedily, and carrying much of the wealth of the country back 
to the mother land. Add to this the severe restrictions on industry and 
commerce, the prohibition of trade except with Spain, the exactions of 
every kind, legal and illegal, to which the people were forced to submit, and 
their deep-seated dissatisfaction is easy to understand 
(128) 



Bt >/ // 'AR, THE I FBERATi >R < >F SJ\ WISH AMERICA 131 

The war for independence in the United States had no apparent 
influence upon the colonics of Spanish America. The) remained loyal to 
Spain. In' French Revolution seemed also without effect. But during 
tin- long Napoleonic wars, when Spain remained fur years in the grip of the 
Corsican, and the people of Spanish America were left largely to govern 
themselves, a thirst for liberty arose, and a spirit of revolt showed itsell 
about 1810 throughout the length and breadth of the colonies. 

Chief among the revolutionists was Simon Bolivar, a native of < 
the capital of Venezuela. In iSiowc find him in London, B () | ivar t)lc 
seeking the aid of the British government in favor of the Revolutionary 
rebels against Spain. In 1811 he served as governor of 
Puerto Cabello, the strongest fortress in Venezuela. lie was at that time 
subordinate to General Miranda, whom he afterwar ised of treason, 

and who died in a dungeon in Spain. In the year named Venezuela pro- 
claimed its independence, but in 1813, Bolivar, who had Keen entitled its 
" Liberator," was a refugee in Jamaica, and his country again a v. 
of Spain. 

The leaders of affairs in Spain knew well where to seek the backbone 

of the insurrection. Bolivar was the one man whom they feared. He 

removed, there was not a man in sight capable of leading the rebels to 

victory. To dispose of him, a spy was sent to Jamaica, his 

purpose being to take the Liberator's life This man, after An Attem P l ; il 
. . ° Assassination 

gaining a knowledge of Bolivar's habits and movements, 
bribed a negro to murder him, and in the dead of night the assassin stole up 
to Bolivar's hammock and plunged his knife into the sleeper's breast. As 
it proved, it was not Bolivar, but his secretarv. who lay there, and the hope 
of the American insurrectionists escaped, 

Leaving Jamaica, Bolivar proceeded to San Domingo, where he found 
a warm supporter in the president, Petion. Here, too, he met Luis Brion, 
a Hutch shipbuilder of great wealth. His zeal for the principles of liberty 
infused Rrion with a like zeal. The result was that Brion fitted out seven 
schooners and placed them at Bolivar's disposal, supplied 3,500 muskets to 
arm recruits who should join Bolivar's standard, and devoted his own life 
and services to the sacred cause. Thus slenderly equipped, Bolivar com- 
menced operations in [816 at the port of Cayos de San Luis, where the 
leading refugees from Cartagena, New Granada, and Venezuela Bo[iva . Re . 
had sought sanctuary. By them he was accepted as leader, turns to 
and Brion. with the title of "Admiral of Venezuela," was «dven Venezu e'a 
command of the squadron he had himself furnished. The growing expedi- 
tion now made lor the island of Margarita which Arismendi had wrested 



132 BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA 

from the Spanish governor; and here, at a convention of officers, Bolivar 
was named "Supreme Chief," and the third Venezuelan war began. It 
was marked by many a disaster to the patriot arms, and so numerous 
vicissitudes that, until the culminating triumph of Boyaca on August 7th 
18 19, it remained doubtful upon which side victory would ultimately rest. 

The war was conducted on the part of the Spaniards with the most 

fiendish cruelty, prisoners taken in war and the unarmed people of the 

country alike being tortured and murdered under circumstances of revolting 

barbarity. "The people of Margarita," writes an English officer who 

served in Venezuela, " saw their liberties threatened and endangered ; their 

The Savage wives, children, and kindred daily butchered and murdered; 

Cruelty of the and the reeking members of beings most dear to them 

pamar s exposed to their gaze on every tree and crag of their native 

forests and mountains; nor was it until hundreds had been thus slaughtered 

that they pursued the same course. The result was that the Spaniards 

were routed. I myself saw upwards of seven thousand of their skulls, 

dried and heaped together in one place, which is not inaptly termed 

Golgotha,' as a trophy of victory." 

Another writer tells us : " I saw several women whose ears and noses 
had been cut off, their eyes torn from their sockets, their tongues cut out, 
and the soles of their feet pared by the orders of Monteverde, a Spanish 
brigadier-general." The result of these excesses of cruelty was an implacable 
hatred of the Spaniard, and a determination to carry on the war unto death. 

In 1815 Ferdinand of Spain determined to put an end once for all to 
the movement for independence that, in varying forms, had been agitating 
for five years the whole of Spanish America. Accordingly, strong rein- 
forcements to the royalist armies were sent out, under General Morillo. 
These arrived at Puerto Cabello, and, besides ships of war, comprised 12,000 
troops — a force in itself many times larger than ,all the scattered bands of 
patriots then under arms put together. Morillo soon had Venezuela under 
his thumb, and, planting garrisons throughout it, proceeded to lay siege to 
The Methods Cartagena. Capturing this city in four months, he marched 
of General unopposed to Santa Fe de Bogota, the capital of New 
Granada, ruin and devastation marking his progress. In a 
despatch to Ferdinand, which was intercepted, he wrote : " Every person of 
either sex who was capable of reading and writing was put to death. By 
thus cutting off all who were in any way educated, I hoped to effectually 
arrest the spirit of revolution." 

An insight into Morillo's methods of coping with the '' spirit of revo- 
lution " is furnished by his treatment of those he found in the opulent city 



BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMUR; 133 

of Maturin on its capture Dissatisfied with the tre< suit he found there, he 
suspected the people of wealth to have anticipated his arrival by burying 
their property. To find out I posed buried treasure, he had all those 

whom he regarded as likely to know where it was hidden collected together 
and, to make them confess, had the soles of their feet cut off. and then had 
them driven over hot sand. Many of the victims of this horrid piece of 
cruelty survived, and were subsequently seen by those that have narrated it. 
At the commencement of the war, with the don of the little hand 

on the island ot Margarita, the patriotic cause was represented by a few 
scattered groups along the hanks of the Orinoco, on the plains of Barcelona 
and of Casan.tr . These groups pursued a kind of guerilla warfare, quite 
independently of one another, and withont any plan to achieve. They were 
kept together by the fact that submission meant death. The leader of one 
of these grou] by name, presents one of the most pic- p aez theQuer. 

turesque and striking characters that history has produced. ilia and His 
! Ie . ■ Llanero, or native of the elevated plains of Barinas, Fx P |0!t s 
and quite illiterate. As owner of herds of half-wild cattle, he became: chief 
of a band of herdsmen, which he organized into an army, known as the 
"Guide-; of the Apure," a tributary of the Orinoco, and whose banks were 
the base of Paez's operations. Only one of his many daring exploits can be 
here recorded. That occurred on the 3rd of June, 1S19, when Paez was 
opposing the advance of Morillo himself. With 150 picked horsemen, he 
swam the river Orinoco and galloped towards the Spanish camp. "Eight 
hundred of the royalist cavalry," writes W. Pilling, General Mitre's trans- 
lator, "with two small guns, sillied out to meet him. He slowly retreat' 
drawing them on to a place called Las Queseras del Medio, where a bat- 
talion of infantry lay in ambush by the river. Then, splitting his men into 
tups o( twenty, he charged In: enemy on all sides, forcing them under 
the fire of the infantry, ami recrossed the river with two killed and a f 
wounded, leaving the plain strewn with the dead of the enemy." 

While Paez's dashing exploits were inspiring the revolutionary leaders 
with fresh courage, which enabled them at hast to hold their own, a system 
if enlisting volunteers was instituted in London by Don Luis Lopes 
Mendez, representative of 1 1 : ■ - republic. The Napoleonic wars being over, 
the European powers were unable to reduce their swollen armaments, and 
English and German officers entered into contracts with Mendez to take out 
to Venezuela organized corps of artillery, lancers, hussars, and rifles. On 
enlisting, soldiers received a bounty of /20 , their pay was 2s. a day and 
rations, and at the end of the war they were promised ,£125 and an allot- 
ment of land, Idle first expedition to leave England comprised 120 hussars 



134 BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA 

and iancers, under Colonel Hippisley; this body became the basis of a corps 
of regular cavalry. The nucleus of a battalion of riflemen was taken out 
British Soldiers D >' Colonel Campbell ; and a subaltern, named Gilmour, with 
Join the in. the title of colonel, formed with 90 men the basis of a brigade 
surgents Q r art: jl] er y General English, who had served in the Peninsular 

War under Wellington, contracted with Mendez to take out a force of 1,200 
Englishmen ; 500 more went out under Colonel Elsom, who also brought 
out 300 Germans under Colonel Uzlar. General MacGregor took 800, and 
General Devereux took out the Irish Legion, in which was a son of the 
Irish tribune, Daniel O'Connell. Smaller contingents also went to the seat 
of war ; these mentioned, however, were the chief, and without their aid 
Bolivar was wont to confess that he would have failed. 

Now it was that a brilliant idea occurred to Bolivar. He had already 
sent 1,200 muskets and a group of officers to General Santander, who was 
the leader of the patriots on the plains of Casanare. This enabled Sant- 
ander to increase his forces from amongst the scattered patriots in that 
neighborhood. He thereupon began to threaten the frontier of New 
Granada, with the result that General Barreiro, who had been left in com- 
mand of that province by Morillo, deemed it advisable to march against him 
and crush his growing power, Santander's forces, however, though inferior 
in number, were too full of enthusiasm for Barreiro's soldiers — reduced to 
a half-hearted condition from being forced to take part in cruelties that they 
gained nothing from, except the odium of the people they moved amongst. 
Bolivar's Plan Barreiro, accordingly, was driven back; and, on receiving the 
to invade news of Santander's success, Bolivar at once formed the con- 

' ception of crossing the Andes and driving the Spaniards out 
of New Granada. The event proved that this was the true plan of cam- 
paign for the patriots. Already they had lost three campaigns through en- 
deavoring to dislodge the Spaniards from their strongest positions, which 
were in Venezuela; now, by gaining New Granada, they would win prestige 
and consolidate their power there for whatever further efforts circumstances 
might demand. 

Thus, as it has been described, did the veil drop from Bolivar's eyes ; 
and so confident was he of ultimate success, that he issued to the people of 
New Granada this proclamation : " The day of America has come ; no 
human power can stay the course of Nature guided by Providence. Before 
the sun has again run his annual course, altars to Liberty will arise through- 
out your land." 

Bolivar immediately prepa/ed to carry out his idea, and on the nth of 
June. 1819, he joined Santander at the foot, of the Andes, bringing with 



BOLIVAR, JUL LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA ix 



OO 



him four battalions of infantry, of which one — the "Albion " — was composed 
entirely of English soldiers — two squadrons of lancers, one of carabineers, 
and a regiment called the " Guides of the Apure," part of which were Eng- 
lish — in all 2,500 men. To join Santander was no easy task, for it involved 
the crossing of an immense plain covered with water at this season of the 
year, ami the swimming of si vi n deep rivers — war materials, of course, 
having to he taken along as well. This, however, was only a foretaste of 
the still greater difficulties that lay before the venturesome hand. 

General Santander led the van with his Casanare troops, and entered 
the mountain defiles by a road leading to the centre of the province of 
Tunja, which was held by Colonel Barreiro with 2,000 infantry 
and .ji'i horse. The royalists had also a reserve of 1,000 o'f the^nd^s 
troops at Bogota, the capital of New Granada; at Cartagena, 
and in tin; valley of Cauca were other detachments, and there was another 
royalist army at Quito. Bolivar, however, trusted to surprise and to the 
support of the inhabitants to overcome the odds that were against him. As 
the invading army left the plains for the mountains the- scene changed. The 
snowy peaks of the eastern range of the Cordillera appeared in the dis- 
tance, while, instead of the peaceful lake through which they had waded, 
they were met by great masses of water tumbling from the heights. The 
roads ran along tn cipices and were bordered by gigantic trees, 

upon whose tops rested the clouds, which dissolved themselves in incessant 
rain. After four days' march the horses were foundered ; an entire squad- 
ron of Llaneros deserted on finding themselves on foot. The torrents were 
crossed on narrow trembling bridges formed of trunks of trees, or by means 
of the aerial " taravitas."* Where they were fordable, the current was so 
strong that the infantry had to pass two by two with their arms thrown 
round each other's shoulders ; and woe to him who lost his footing — he lost 
his life too. bolivar frequently passed and re-passed these torrents on horse- 
back, carrying behind him the sick and weakly, or the women who accom- 
panied his men. 

The temperature was moist and warm; life was supportable with the aid 
a little firewood ; but as they ascended the mountain the scene changed 
again. Immense rocks piled one upon another, and hills of snow, bounded 
the view on every side ; below lay the clouds, veiling the depths of the 
abyss ; an ice-cold wind cut through the stoutest clothing. At these heights 
no other noise is heard save that of the roaring torrents left behind, and the 

. ide of several thoDg nd secured to trees on opposite l<:\nl:s. On 

then'; '.re 

also thu 

s 



136 BOLIVAR THE LIBERATOR OE SPANISH AMERICA 

scream of the condor circling round the snowy peaks above Vegetation • 
disappears ; only lichens are to be seen clinging to the rock, and a tall plant, 
bearing plumes instead of leaves, and crowned with yellow flowers, resembling 
a funeral torch. To make the scene more dreary yet, the path was marked 
out by crosses erected in memory of travellers who had perished by the 
way. 

On entering this glacial region the provisions gave out ; the cattle they 
had brought with them as their chief resource could go no farther. They 
reached the summit by the Paya pass, where a battalion could hold an army 
in check. It was held by an outpost of 300 men, who were dislodged by 
the vanguard under Santander without much difficulty. 

The Terror of Now the men began to murmur, and Bolivar called a 

the Moun- council of war, to which he showed that still greater difficul- 
ties lay before them, and asked if they would persevere or 
return. All were of opinion that they should go on, a decision which infused 
fresh spirit into the weary troops. 

In this passage more than one hundred men died of cold, fifty of whom 
were Englishmen ; no horse had survived. It was necessary to leave the 
spare arms, and even some of those that were carried by the soldiers. It 
was a mere skeleton of an army which reached the beautiful valley of Saga- 
rnoso, in die heart of the province of Tunja, on the 6th of July, 18 19 
From this point Bolivar sent back assistance to the stragglers left behind, 
collected horses, and detached parties to scour the country around and 
communicate with some few guerillas who still roamed about. 

Meanwhile, Barreiro was still in ignorance of Bolivar's arrival. Indeed, 
he had supposed the passage of the Cordillera at that season impossible. 
As soon, however, as he did learn of his enemy's proximity, he collected his 
forces and took possession of the heights above the plains of Vargas, thus 
interposing between the patriots and the town of Tunja, which, being at- 
tached to the independent cause, Bolivar was anxious to enter. The oppos- 
ing armies met on the 25th of July, and engaged in battle for five hours. 
The patriots won, chiefly through the English infantry, led by Colonel 
James Rooke, who was himself wounded and had an arm shot off. Still, 
the action had been indecisive, and the royalist power remained unbroken. 
Bolivar's Meth- Bolivar now deceived Barreiro by retreating in the daytime, 
ods of Fight- rapidly counter-marching, and passing the royalist army in the 
dark through by-roads. On August 5th he captured Tunja, 
where he found an abundance of war material, and by holding which he cut 
Barreiro's communication with Bogota,"' the capital. It was in rapid movements 
like these that the strength of Bolivar's generalship lay. Freed from the 



BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA 137 

shackles of military routine that enslaved the Spanish officers, he astonished 
them by forced marches over roads previously deemed impracticable to a 
regular army. While the}- were manoeuvring, hesitating, calculating, guard- 

the customary avenues of approach, he surprised them by concentrating 
a superior force upon a point where they least expected an attack, threw 
them into confusion, and cut up their troops in detail. Thus it happens 
that Bolivar's actions in the field do not lend themselves to the same im- 
pressive exposition as do those of less notabl rals. 

Barreiro, finding himself shut out from Tunja, fell back upon Venta 
Quemada, where a general action took place. The country was mountain- 
ous and woody, and well suited to Bolivar's characteristic tactics. He placed 
a large part of his troops in ambush, got his cavalry in the enemy's rear, and 
presented only a small front. This the enemy attacked furiously, and with 
apparent success. It was only a stratagem, however, lor as they drove back 
Bolivar's front, the troops in ambush sallied forth and attacked them in the 
flanks, w y attacked them in the rear. Thus were the Span- 

iards surrounded. General Barreiro was taken prisoner on the field of battle. 
On finding his capture to be inevitable, he threw away his sword that he 
might not have the mortification of surrendering it to Bolivar. His second 
in command, Colonel Ximenes, was also taken, as were also almost all the 
commandants and majors of the corps, a multitude of inferior 1 , and 

more than 1,600 men. All their arms, ammunition, artillery, horses, etc., 
likewise fell into the patriots' hands. Hardly fifty mi ped, and among 

these wire some chiefs ami officers of cavalry, who lied before 

the battle was decided. Those whi ped, however, had of Boyaca 

only the surrounding country to escape into, and there the)- wi 

captured by the peasantry, who bound them and brought them in as prisoners, 

d"he patriot loss was incredibly small — only 13 killed and 53 wounded. 

At Boyaca the English auxiliaries were seen for the first time under fire, 
and so gratified was Bolivar with their behavior, that he made them all mem- 
bers of t!ie Order of the Liberator. 

Thus was won I , which, after Maypu, is the great battle of South 

America. It gave the preponderance to the patriot arms in the north of the 
continent, as Maypu had done in the south. It gave New Granada to the 
patriots, and isolated Morillo in Venezui 

Nothing now remained for Bolivar to do but to reach Bogota, the capi- 
tal, ami assume the reins of government, for already the Spanish officials, 
much to the relief of the inhabitants, had fled. So, with a small escort, he 

forward, and entered the city on August 10th, amid the acclamations 
of the populace. 



i3* BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA 

The final battle in this implacable war took place in 1 821 at Carabobo, 
where the Spaniards met with a total defeat, losing more than 
Peruvians 6,000 men. This closed the struggle, the Spaniards withdrew, 
and a republic was organized with Bolivar as president. In 
1823 he aided the Peruvians in gaining their independence, and was de- 
clared their liberator and given supreme authority. For two years he ruled 
as dictator, and then resigned, giving the country a republican constitution. 
The people of the upper section of Peru organized a commonwealth of their 
own, which they named Bolivia, in honor of their liberator, while the con- 
gress of Lima elected him president for life. 

Meanwhile Chili had won its liberty in 1817 as a result of the victory 
The Freeing of °f Maypu, above mentioned, and Buenos Ayres had similarly 
the other fought for and gained independence. In North America a 

similar struggle for liberty had gone on, and with like result, 
Central America and Mexico winning their freedom after years of struggle 
and scenes of devastation and cruelty such as those above mentioned. At 
the opening of the nineteenth century Spain held a dominion of continental 
dimensions in America. At the close of the first quarter of the century, as 
a result of her mediaeval methods of administration, she had lost all her posses- 
sions on the western continent except the two islands of Cuba and Porto 
Rico. Yet, learning nothing from her losses, she pursued the same methods 
in these fragments of her dominions, and before the close of the century 
these also were torn from her hands. Cruelty and oppression had borne 
their legitimate fruits, and Spain, solely through her own fault, had lost the 
final relics of her magnificent colonial empire, 





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CHAPTER VIII. 
Great Britain as a World Empire. 

ON the western edge of the continent of Europe lies the island of 
Great Britain, in the remote past a part of the continent, but long 
ages ago cut off by the Britisli Channel. Divorced from themainland, 
left like a waif in the western sea, peopled by men with their own interests 
and aims, it might naturally be expected to have enough to attend to at 
home ami to take no part in continental affairs. 

Such was tlv riginally. Tim island lay apart, almost unknown, 

and was, in a sense, "discovered" by the Roman conquerors. But new 
people came to it, the Anglo-Saxons, and subsequently the _,. 

r r & l The Adventur- 

Normans, both of them scions ol that stirring race of Vikings ous Disposi- 
who made the seas their own centuries ago and descended Hon of the 

. 1111 r i- iti- British People 

in conquering inroads on all the shores ot hurope, while then- 
darings keels cut the waters of far-off Greenland and touched upon the 
American coast. This people — stirring, aggressive, fearless— made a new 
destiny for Great Britain. Their island shores were too narrow to hold 
them, and they set out on bold ventures in all seas. Their situation was a 
happy one for a nation of daring navigators ami aggressive warriors. 
Europe lay to the east, the world to the west. As a result the British 
islands have played a leading part alike in the affairs of Europe and of the 
world. 

France, the next door neighbor of Great Britain, was long its prey. 
While, after the memorable invasion of William of Normandy, France never 

ceeded in transporting an army to the island shores, and Hostility of 
even Napoleon failed utterly in his stupendous expedition, England to 
the islanders sent army after army to France, det its rance 

chivalry on many a hard-fought field, ravaged its most fertile domains, and 
for a time held it as a vassal realm of the British King. 

All this is matter of far-past history. lint the old feeling was promi- 
nently shown again in the Napoleonic wars, when Great Britain resumed 
her attitude of enmity to France, and pursued the conqueror with an 
unrelenting hostility that finally ended in his overthrow. Only for this 
aggressive island Europe might have remained the bound slave of Napo- 

(141) 



i 4 2 GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EMPIRE 

leon's whims. He could conquer his enemies on land, but the people of 
England lay beyond his reach. Every fleet he sent to sea was annihilated 
by his island foes. They held the empire of the waters as he did that of 
the land. Enraged against these ocean hornets, he sought to repeat the 
enterprise of William of Normany, but if his mighty Boulogne expedition 
had put to sea it would probably have met the fate of the Armada of Spain. 
Great Britain was impregnable. The conqueror of Europe chafed against 
its assaults in vain. This little island of the west was destined to be the 
main agent in overthrowing the great empire that his military genius had built. 
The Vast In- Great Britain, small as it was, had grown, by the open- 

dustries of ing of the nineteenth century, to be the leading power in 
rea nam J7 uro p e _ Its industries, its commerce, its enterprise had ex- 
panded enormously. It had become the great workshop and the chief 
distributor of the world. The raw material of the nations flowed throueh 
its ports, the finished products of mankind poured from its looms, London 
became the great money centre of the world, and the industrious and enter- 
prising islanders grew enormously rich, while few steps of progress and 
enterprise showed themselves in any of the nations of the continent. 

It was with its money-bags that England fought against the conqueror. 

It could not conveniently send men, but it could send money and supplies 

to the warring nations, and by its influence and aid it formed coalition after 

coalition against Napoleon, each harder to overthrow than the last. Every 

peace that the Corsican won by his victories was overthrown by England's 

influence. Her envoys haunted every court, whispering hostility in the 

How England ears of monarchs, planning, intriguing, instigating, threaten- 

Fought ing, in a thousand ways working against his plans, and unre- 

Against Na- lentingly bent upon his overthrow. It was fitting, then, that 

an English general should give Napoleon the coup de grace, 

and that he should die a prisoner in English hands. 

Chief among those to whom Napoleon owes his overthrow was William 
Pitt, prime minister of England during the first period of his career of con- 
quest, and his unrelenting enemy. It was Pitt that organized Europe, 
against him, that kept the British fleet alert and expended the British 
revenues without stint against this disturber of the peace of the nations, 
and that formed the policy which Great Britain, after the short interval 
of the ministry of Fox, continued to pursue until his final defeat was 
achieved. 

Whether this policy was a wise one is open to question. It may be 
that Great Britain caused more harm than it cured. Only for its persistant 
hostility the rapid succession of Napoleonic wars might not have taken place, 



GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EMPIRE 

and much of the terrible bloodshed and misery : by them might h 

been obviated. It seems to have been, in its way, disastrous w as England's 
to the interests of mankind. Napoleon, it is true, had no Policy a Wise 
regard for the stability of dynasties and kingdoms, but he ne 
wrought for the overthrow of the old-time tyranny, and Ins marches and 
campaigns had the effect of stirring up the dormant peoples of Europe, and 
spreading far and wide that doctrine of human ''quality and the rights of 
man which was the outcome of the French Revolution. Had he been 
permitted to die in peace upon the throne and transmit his crown to his 
descendant, the long era of reaction would doubtless have been avoided 
and the people of Europe have become the freer and happier as a result of 
Napoleon's work. 

The people of Gr at Britain had no reason to thank their ministers for 
their policy. The cost of the war, fought largely with the purse, had been 
enormous, and the public debt of the kingdom was itly increased 

that its annual interest amounted to $150,000,000. But the country 
emerged from the mighty struggle with a vast growth in power and pres- 
It was recognized as the true leader in the great contest and had 
lifted itself to the foremost position in European politics. ThePrestlge 
On land it had waged the only successful campaign against Gained by 
Napoleon previous to that of the disastrous Russian expedi- Qreat ,r| tain 
tion. At sea it had destroyed all opposing fleets, and reigned the unques- 
tioned mistress of the ocean except in American waters, where alone its 
proud ships had met defeat 

d"he islands of Great Britain and Ireland had ceased to represent the 
dominions under the rule of the British king. In the West Indies new 
islands had been added to his colonial possessions. In the East Indies he 
had become master of an imperial domain far surpassing the mother 
country in size and population, and with untold possibilities of wealth. In 
North America the great colony of Canada was growing in population 
and prosperity. Island after island was being added to his ; ions in 

the Eastern seas. Among these was the continental island of Australia, 
then in its early stage of colonization. The possession of Q re at Extension 
Gibraltar and Malta, the protectorate over the Ionian Islands, of England's 
and the right of free navigation on the Dardanells gave Great Co|on 'es 
Britain the controlling power in the M< diterranean. And Cape Colon)', 
which she received as a result of the Treaty of Vienna, was the entering 
wedge for a great dominion in South Africa. 

Thus Great Britain had attained the position and dimensions • 



i 4 4 GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EMPIRE 

world-empire. Her colonies lay in all continents and spread through all 
The Wars of seas, and they were to grow during the century until they 
the World- enormously excelled the home country in dimensions, popu- 
Empire lation, and natural wealth. The British Islands were merely 

the heart, the vital centre of the great system, while the body and limbs 
lay afar, in Canada, India, South Africa, Australia and elsewhere. 

But the world-empire of Great Britain was not alone one of peaceful 
trade and rapid accumulation of wealth, but of wars spread through all the 
continents, war becoming a permanent feature of its history in the nine- 
teenth century. After the Napoleonic period England waged only one 
war in Europe, the Crimean; but elsewhere her troops were almost con- 
stantly engaged. Now they were fighting with the Boers and the Zulus 
of South Africa, now with the Arabs on the Nile, now with the wild tribes 
of the Himalayas, now with the natives of New Zealand, now with the 
half savage Abyssinians. Hardly a year has passed without a fight of some 
sort, far from the centre of this vast dominion, while for years England 
and Russia have stood face to face on the northern borders of India, 
threatening at any moment to become involved in a terrible struggle for 
dominion. 

And the standing of Great Britain as a world power lay not alone in 
her vast colonial dominion and her earth-wide wars, but also in the extra- 
ordinary enterprise that carried her ships to all seas, and made her the 
commercial emporium of the world. Not only to her own colonies, but to 
all lands, sailed her enormous fleet cf merchantmen, gathering the products 
of the earth, to be consumed at home or distributed again to the nations of 
Europe and America. She had assumed the position of the purveyor and 
carrier for mankind. 

This was not all. Great Britain was in a large measure, the producer 
for mankind. Manufacturing enterprise and industry had grown im- 
mensely on her soil, and countless factories, forges and other workshops 
turned out finished goods with a speed and profusion undreamed of before. 
The preceding century had been one of active invention, its vital product 
being the steam engine, that wonder-worker which at a touch was to over- 
turn the old individual labor system of the world, and replace it with the 
congregate, factory system that has revolutionized the industries of man- 
kind. The steam engine stimulated invention extraordinarily. Machines for 
Manufacturing spinning, weaving, iron-making, and a thousand other pur- 
and Inventive poses came rapidly into use, and by their aid one of the greatest 
steps of progress in the history of mankind took place, the 
grand nineteenth century revolution in methods of production 



Commercial 



GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EMPIRE 145 

Great Britain did not content herself with going abroad for the ma- 
rials of her active industries. She dug her way into the bowels ol the 
earth, tore from the reek its treasures of coal and iron, and thus obtained 
the necessary fuel for her fin ind metal for her machines. The whole 

island resounded with the ringing of hammers and rattle of wheels, goods w 

[u I very far beyond the capacity of the island for their consump- 
tion, and the vast surplus was sent abroad to all quarters of the earth, to 
clothe savages in far-off regions and to furnish articles of use and luxury 
to the most enlightened of the nations. To the ship as a carrier was soon 
added the locomotive and its cars, conveying these products 
inland with unprecedented speed from a thousand ports. And 

1 r Enterprise 

from America came the parallel discovery of the steamship, 

signalling the close of the long centuries of dominion of the sail. Years 
went on and still the power and prestigi reat Britain grew, still its 

industry and commerce spread and exj 1, still its colonies increased in 

population and new lands were added to the sum, until the island-empire 
stood foremost in industry and enterprise among the nations of the world, 
and its people reached the summit of their prosperity. From this lofty 
elevation was to come, in the later years of 1 ;ury. a slow but inevi- 

table decline, as the United States and the leading European nations 
developed in industry, and rivals to the productive and commercial supre- 
macy of the British islanders began to arise in various quarters of the earth. 
It cannot be said that the industrial prosperity of Great Britain, while 
of advantage to her people as a whole, was necessarily so to individuals. 
While one portion of the nation amassed enormous wealth, the bulk of the 
people sank into the deepest poverty. The factory system brought with it 
oppression and misery which it woufd need a century of indus- 

... ,„, . , . . Disastrous 

trial revolt to overcome. 1 he costly wars, the crushing taxa- Effect on the 

tion, the oppressive corn-laws, which forbade the importation People of the 
of foreign corn, the extravagant expenses of the court and 

. tions 

salaries of officials, all conspin press the people. Manu- 

factories fell into the hands of the few, and a vast number of artisans wi 
forced to live from hand to mouth, ami to labor for long hours on pinching 
wages. Estates were similarly accumulated in the hands ol the few, and 
the small land-owner and trailer tended to disappear. Everything was 
taxed to the utmost it would bear, while government remained blind to 
the needs and sufferings of the people and made no effort to decrease the 
prevailing misery. 

Thus it came about that the era of Great Britain's greatest prosperity 
and supremacy as a world-power was the one of greatest industrial oppres- 



146 GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EM TIRE 

sion and misery at home, a period marked by rebellious uprisings among 
the people, to be repressed with cruel and bloody severity. It was a 
period of industrial transition, in which the government flourished and the 
people suffered, and in which the seeds of revolt and revolution were 
widely spread on every hand. 

This state of affairs cannot be said to have ended. In truth the pre- 
sent condition of affairs is one that tends to its aggravation. Neither the 
manufacturing nor commercial supremacy of Great Britain are what they once 
were. In Europe, Germany has come into the field as a formidable com- 
petitor, and is gaining a good development in manufacturing industry. The 
same must be said of the United States, the products of whose workshops 
have increased to an enormous extent, and whose commerce has grown to 
surpass that of any other nation on the earth. The laboring population of 
Great Britian has severely felt the effects of this active rivalry, and is but 
slowly adapting itself to the new conditions which it has brought about, the 
slow but sure revolution in the status of the world's industries. 



CHAPTER IX. 
The Great Reform Bill and the Corn Laws 

AT the close of the last chapter we depicted the miseries of the people 
of Great Britain, due to the revolution in the system of industry. 
the vast expenses of the Napoleonic wars, the extravagance of the 
government, and the blindness nt Parliament to the condition of the 
working classes. The situation had grown intolerable ; it was widely felt 
thai something must be done; if affairs were allowed to go on as they were 
the people might rise- in a revolt that would widen into revolution. A 
general outbreak seemed at hand. To use the language of a p er iod of 
the times, the " Red Cock" was crowing in the rural districts. Riot and 

T If 

That is, incendiary tires were being kindled in a hundred umu 
places. In the centres of manufacture similar signs of discontent ap 
peared. Tumultuous meetings were held, riots broke out, bloody collisions 
with the troops took place. Daily and hourly the situation was growing 
more critical. The people were in that state of exasperation that is the 
preliminary stage of insurrection. 

Two things they strongly demanded, reform in Parliament and repeal 
of the Corn Laws. It is with these two questions, reform and repeal, that 
we propose to deal in this chapter. 

The British Parliament, it is scarcely necessary to say, is composed of 
two bodies, the House of Lords and the I louse of Commons. The formet 
represents the aristocratic element of the nation ; — in short, it The Parliament 
represents simply its members, since the)- hold their seats as ofOreat 
a privilege of their titles, and have only their own inter- 
ests to consider, though the interests of their class go with their own. 
The latter are supposed to represent th. people, but up to the time with 
which we are now concerned they had never fully done so, and they 
did so now less than ever, since the right to vote for them was reserved to 
a few thousands of the rich. 

In the year [830, indeed, the I louse of Commons had almost ceased to 
represent the people at all. Its seats were distributed in accordance with 
a system that had scarcely changed in the least for two hundred y 

('17) 



1 48 THE GREAT REFORM BILL AND THE CORN LAWS 

The idea of distributing- the members in accordance with the population 
was scarcely thought of, and a state of affairs had arisen which was as 
absurd as it was unjust. For during these two hundred years great changes 
Two Centu- na( i taken place in England. What were mere villages or 
riesof open plains had become flourishing commercial or manufactur- 

ing cities. Manchester, Leeds, Sheffield, Liverpool, and 
other centres of industry had become seats of great and busy populations. 
On the other hand, flourishing towns had decayed, ancient boroughs had 
become practically extinct. Thus there had been great changes in the dis- 
tribution of population, but the distribution of seats in Parliament remained 
the same. 

As a result of this state of affairs the great industrial towns, Manches- 
ter, Birmingham, Sheffield, Leeds, and others, with their hundreds of thou- 
sands of people, did not send a single member to Parliament, while places 
with only a handful of voters were duly represented, and even places with 

no voters at all sent members to Parliament. Land-holding 
Disfranchised t • ° 

Cities and lords nominated and elected those, generally selecting the 

Rotten Bo= younger sons of noble families, and thus a large number of 

the " representatives of the people " really represented no one 

but the gentry to whom they owed their places. " Rotten " boroughs these 

were justly called, but they were retained by the stolid conservatism with 

which the genuine Briton clings to things and conditions of the past. 

The peculiar state of affairs was picturesquely pointed out by Lord 
lohn Russell in a speech in 1831. "A stranger," he said, "who was told 
that this country is unparalleled in wealth and industry, and more civilized 
and enlightened than any country was before it — that it is a country which 
prides itself upon its freedom, and which once in seven years elects repre- 
sentatives from its population to act as the guardians and preservers of that 
freedom — would be anxious and curious to see how that representation is 
formed, and how the people choose their representatives. 

" Such a person would be very much astonished if he were taken to a 

ruined mound and told that that mound sent two representatives to Parlia- 

_ c p ment ; if he were taken to a stone wall and told that these 

sentedby niches in it sent two representatives to Parliament ; if he were 

Lord .lohn taken to a park, where no houses were to be seen' and told 

Russel! 111 • -r. v n 

that that park sent two representatives to Parliament, but 
he would be still more astonished if he were to see large and opulent towns, 
full of enterprise and industry and intelligence, containing vast magazines 
of every species of manufacture, and were then told that these towns sent 
no representatives to Parliament. 




Willi Wl Bl VCK. 



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POPULAR WRI Ilk- i U I ICTION. 



GEORCI M.D. , 




justin McCarthy 



JAMES BRVLE. 




JOHN MORLEV A J. BALFOUK 

ENGLISH STATESMEN IN LITERATURE. 



THE GREAT REFORM BILL AND THE CORN LAWS 151 

"Such a person would be still more astonished if he were taken to 
Liverpool, where there is a large constituency, and told, 'Here you will 
have a fine specimen of a popular election.' He would see bribery 
employed to the greatesl extent and in the most unblushing manner; he 
would see every voter receiving a number of guineas in a bag as the price 
of his corruption ; and after such a spectacle he would be, no doubt, much 
.1 tonished that a nation whose repres< ntatives are thus chosen, could per- 
form the functions of legislation at all, or enjoy respect in any degree." 

Such was li of affairs when there came to England the news of 

the quiet but effecti nch Revolution of 1830. Its effect in England 

was a stern demand for the reform of this mockery miscalled House of 

Commons, of this lie that claimed to rep the English people. We 

have not told the whole story of the transparent falsehood. Two 5 

before no man could be a member of Parliament who did not belong to the 

Church of England. No Dissenter could hold any public office in the 

kingdom. The multil i Methodists, Presbyterians, Baptists, and 

other dissenting sects were excluded from any share in the _.. 

& - Dissenters ant 

/eminent. The same was the case with the Catholics, catholics 
few in England, but forming the bulk of the population of Admitted to 

Ireland. This evil, so far as all but the Catholics were con- 
cerned, was removed l>y Act of Parliament in 1828. The struggle for 
Catholic liberation was conducted in Ireland by Daniel O'Connell, the most 
eloquent and patriotic of its orators. lb- was sneered at by Lord Welling- 
ton, then prime minister of Great Britain. But when it was seen that all 
Ireland was backing her orator the Iron Duke gave way, and a Catholic 
Relief Bill was passed in 1829, giving Catholics the right to hold all but the 
highest offices of the realm. In 1830, instigated by the revolution in 
France, the great fight for the reform of Parliamentary representation be 

The question was not a new one. It had been raised by Cromwell, 
nearly two hundred years before. It had been brought forward a number 
of times during the eighteenth century. It was revived in 1809 and again 
in 1821, but public opinion did nol come strongly to its support until 1830. 
George IV., its strong opponent, died in that year; William IV., a king 
more in its favor, came to the throne; the government of the bitterly con- 
servative Luke of Wellington was defeated and Earl Grey, a Liberal 
minister, took his place ; the time was evidently ripe for reform, and soon 
the great fight was on. 

The people of England looked upon the reform of Parliament as a 
restoring to them of their lost liberties, and their feelings were deeply 
enlisted in the event. When, on the 1st of March, 183 1, the bill was 



152 



THE GREAT REFORM RILL AND THE CORN LAWS 



brought into the House of Commons, the public interest was intense. For 

hours eager crowds waited in the streets, and when the doors of the 

Parliament house were opened every inch of room in the 

Introduced galleries was quickly filled, while for hundreds of others no 
room was to be had. 
The debate opened with the speech by Lord John Russell from which 
we have quoted. In the bill offered by him he proposed to disfranchise 
entirely sixty-two of the rotten boroughs, each of which had less than 2,000 
inhabitants ; to reduce forty-seven others, with less than 4,000 inhabitants, 
to one member each; and to distribute the 168 members thus unseated 
among the populous towns, districts, and counties which either had no 
members at all, or a number out of all proportion to their population. 
Also the suffrage was to be extended, the hours for voting shortened, and 
other reforms adopted. 

The bill was debated, pro and con, with all the eloquence then in Par- 
liament. Vigorously as it was presented, the opposing elements were too 
strong, and its consideration ended in defeat by a majority of eight. Par- 
The Fate ot liament was immediately dissolved by the premier, and an 

Reform in appeal was made to the people. The result showed the 
strength of the public sentiment, limited as the suffrage then 
was. The new Parliament contained a large majority of reformers, and 
when the bill was again presented it was carried by a majority of 106. On 
the evening of its passage it was taken by Earl Grey into the House of 
Lords, where it was eloquently presented by the prime minister and bitterly 
attacked by Lord Brougham, who declared that it would utterly over- 
whelm the aristocratic part of the House. His view was that of his 
fellows, and the Reform Bill was thrown out by a majority of forty-one. 

Instantly, on the news of this action of the Lords, the whole country 
blazed into a state of excitement and disorder only surpassed by that of 
civil war. The people were bitterly in earnest in their demand for reform, 
England on the tne > r feelings being wrought up to an intense pitch of excite- 

Verge of ment. Riots broke out in all sections of the country. 

London seethed with excitement. The peers were mobbed 
in the streets and hustled and assaulted wherever seen. They made their 
way to the House only through a throng howling for reform. Those 
known to have voted against the bill were in peril of their lives, some being 
forced to fly over housetops to escape the fury oj the people. Angry 
debates arose in the House of Lords in which even the Bishops took an 
excited part. The Commons was like a bear-pit, a mass of furiously 



Jill: GREAT REFORM BILL AND THE ( ORN LAWS .'53 

wrangling opponents. England was shaken to the centre by the defeat of 
the bill, and Parliament reflected the sentiment of the people. 

On December 12th, Russell presented a third Reform Bill to the 
House, almost the same in its provisions a which had been defeated, 

The debate now was brief, and the result certain. It was felt to be no loi 
safe to juggle with the people. On the r8th the l>ill was passed, with a 
greatly increased majority, now amounting to 162. To the Lo iin it 

went, where the Tories, led by Lord Wellington, were in a decided majority 
against it. It had no chance: of passage, unl< king would create 

enough new peers to outvote the opposition, ddiis King William refused to 
do, and, Earl Grey resigned the ministry, leaving the Torie ; to bear the brunt 
of the situation they had produo 

The result was one barely short of civil war. The people rose in fury 
determined upon reform or revolution. Organized unions now the Re- 
sprang up in every town. Threats ol marching an army form Bill 
upon London were made. Lord Wellington was n in 

the street; and was in peril of his life. The maddened populace went so 
far as to curse and stone the king himself, one stone striking him in the 
forehead. The country was indeed on the verge of insurrection against 
the government, and unless quick action was taken it was impossible to 
foresee the result. 

William IV., perhaps with the recent experience of Charles X. of 
France before his eyes, gave way, and promised to create enough new 
peers to insure the passing of the bill. To escape tins unwelcome n 
Wellington anil others of the Tories agreed to stay away from Parliament, 
and the Lords, pocketing their dignity as best they could, passed the bill 
by a safe majority, and reform was attained. Similar bills were passed for 
Scotland and Ireland, and thus was achievi i reform 

in the history of the British Parliament. It w ntially a revolution, 

the first great step in the evolution of a truly representative assembly in 
('.re.u Britain. 

The second great step was taken in 1867, in response to a popular 
demonstration almost a and thr & as that of iS^o. Th 

themselves, under their leader Mr. Disraeli, were obliged to bring in this 
bill, which extended the suffrage to millions of the people, The Extension 
and made it almost universal among the commercial ami oftheSuf- 
industrial classes. Nearly twenty years later, in 1884, anew vafe 
crusade was made in favor of the extension of the suffrage to agricultural 
laborers, previously disfranchised. The accomplishment of this reform 
ended the great struggle, and for the first time in their history the people 



i 5 4 THE GREAT REFORM BILL AND THE CORN LAWS 

of Great Britain were adequately represented in their Parliament, which 
had ceased to be the instrument of a class and at last stood for the whole 
commonwealth. 

The question of Parliamentary reform settled, a second great question, 
that of the Corn Laws, rose up prominently before the people. It was one 
that appealed more immediately to them than that of representation. The 
benefits to come from the latter were distant and problematical ; those to 
come from a repeal of the Corn Laws were evident and immediate. Every 
poor man and woman felt each day of his life the crushing- effect of these 
laws, which bore upon the food on their tables, making still more scarce 
and high-priced their scanty means of existence. 

For centuries commerce in grain had been a subject of legislation. In 

1 361 its exportation from England was forbidden, and in 1463 its 

importation was prohibited unless the price of wheat was 

greater than 6s. 3d. per quarter. As time went on changes 

were made in these laws, but the tariff charges kept up the 

price of grain until late in the nineteenth century, and added greatly to 

the miseries of the working classes. 

The farming land of England was not held by the common people, but by 
the aristocracy, who fought bitterly against the repeal of the Corn Laws, which, 
by laying a large duty on grain, added materially to their profits. But 
while the aristocrats were benefited, the workers suffered, the price of the 
loaf being decidedly raised and their scanty fare correspondingly dim- 
inished. 

More than once they rose in riot against these laws, and occasional 
changes were made in them, but many years passed after the era of parlia- 
mentary reform before public opinion prevailed in this second field of 
Cobdenandthe effort. Richard Cobden, one of the greatest of England's 
AntUCorn orators, was the apostle of the crusade against these misery- 

Law Crusade p roc i ucm g laws. He advocated their repeal with a power 
and influence that in time grew irresistible. He was not affiliated with 
either of the great parties, but stood apart as an independent Radical, a 
man with a party of his own, and that party, Free Trade. For the crusade 
against the Corn Laws widened into one against the whole principle of 
protection. Backed by the public demand for cheap food, the movement 
went on, until in 1846 Cobden brought over to his side the government 
forces under Sir Robert Peel, by whose aid the Corn Laws were swept 
away and the ports of England thrown open to the free entrance of food 
from any part of the world. The result was a serious one to English agri- 
culture, but it was of great benefit to the English people in their status as 



THE GREAT REFORM HILL AND THE CORN LAWS 155 

the greatest of manufacturing- and commercial nations. Supplying the 

world with g Is. as they did, it was but just that the world should supply 

them with food. With the repeal of the duties on grain Q rea t Britain 
tin- whole system of protection was dropped and in its place AdoptsFree 
was adopted that system of free trade in which Great Britain 
stands alone among the nations of the world. It was a system especially 
adapted to a nation whose market was the world at large, and under it 
British commerce spread and flourished until it became one of the wonders 
of the world. 



CHAPTER X. 

Turkey, the "Sick Man" of Europe. 

AMONG the most interesting phases of nineteenth-century history 
is that of the conflict between Russia and Turkey, a struggle for 
dominion that came clown from the preceding centuries, and still 
seems only temporarily laid aside for final settlement in the years to come. 
In the eighteenth century the Turks proved quite able to hold their own 
against all the power of Russia and all the armies of Catharine the Great, 

and they entered the nineteenth century with their ancient do- 
The "Sick Man" 
of Europe minion largely intact. But they were declining in strength 

while Russia was growing, and long before 1900 the empire 
of the Sultan would have become the prey of the Czar had not the other powers 
of Europe come to the rescue. The Czar Nicholas designated the Sultanas 
"the sick man" of Europe, and such he and his empire have truly become. 

The ambitious designs of Russia found abundant warrant in the cruel 
treatment of the Christian people of Turkey. A number of Christian king- 
doms lay under the Sultan's rule, in the south inhabited by Greeks, in the 
north by Slavs ; their people treated always with harshness and tyranny ; 
their every attempt at revolt repressed with savage cruelty. We have seen 
how the Greeks rebelled against their oppressors in 182 1, and, with the aid 
The Result of °f Europe, won their freedom in 1829. Stirred by this strug- 
the War of gle, Russia declared war against Turkey in 1828, and in the 

treaty of peace signed at Adrianople in 1829 secured not only 
the independence of Greece, but a large degree of home-rule for the north- 
ern principalities of Servia, Moldavia, and Wallachia. Turkey was forced 
in a measure to loosen her grip on Christian Europe. But the Russians 
were not satisfied with this. They had got next to nothing for themselves. 
England and the other Western powers, fearful of seeing Russia in posses- 
sion of Constantinople, had forced her to release the fruits of her victory. 
It was the first step in that jealous watchfulness of England over Constanti- 
nople which was to have a more decided outcome in later years. The new- 
born idea of maintaining the balance of power in Europe stood in Russia's 
way, the nations of the West viewing in alarm the threatening growth of 
the great Muscovite Empire, 
156 



TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 157 

The ambitious Czar Nicholas looked upon Turkey as his destined prey, 
and wailed with impatience a sufficient excuse to send his armii tin to 

the Balkan Peninsula, whose mountain barrier formed the great natural bul- 
wark of Turkey in the north. Though the Turkish government at this 
time avoided direct oppression of its Christian subjects, the fanatical Mo- 
hammedans were difficult to restrain, and the robbery and oppression of 
murder of Christians was of common occurrence A source the Christians 
of hostility at length arose from the question of protecting 
these ill-tie. it. I peoples. By favor of old treaties the czar claimed a certain 
right to protect the Christians of the Creek faith. France assumed a simi- 
lar protectorate over the Roman Catholics of Palestine, but the gre 
number of Greek Christians in the Holy Land, and the powerful support of 
:ar, gave those the advantage in the frequent quarrels which arose in 
Jerusalem between the pilgrims from the Mast and the West. 

Nicholas, instigated by his advantage in this quarter, determined to 
clare himself the- protector of all the Christians in the Turkish Empire, a 
claim which tin: sultan dared not admit if he wished to hold The Balance «f 
control over his Mohammedan subjects. War was in the Power in 
air, and England and France, resolute to preserve the urop 
" balance of power," sent their fleets to the Dardanelles as useful 
lookers-on. 

The sultan had already rejected the Russian demand, and Nicholas lost 
no time in sending an army, led by Prince Gortchakoff, with orders to cross 
the Pruth and take possession of the Turkish provinces on the Danube. 
The gauntlet had been thrown down. War was inevitable. The English 
newspapers demanded of their government a vigorous policy. 1 he old 
Turkish party in Constantinople was equally urgent in its demand for hos- 
tilities. At length, on October 4, 1853, the sultan declared The Su | tan De . 
war against Russia unless the Danubian principalities were at dares War 
once evacuated. Instead of doing 1 so, Nicholas ordered his Against 
generals to invade the Balkan territory, and on the other hand 
France and England entered into alliance with the Porte and sent their 
fleets to the Bosporus. Shortly afterwards the Russian Admiral Nachr 
moff surprised a Turkish squadron in the harbor of Sinope, attacked it, 
and — though the Turks fought with the greatest courage — the fleet was 
destroyed and nearly the whole of its crews were slain. 

This turned the tide in England and France, which declared war in 
March, [854, while Prussia and Austria maintained a waiting attitude. No 
event of special importance took place early in the war. In April Lord 
Raglan, with an English army of 20,000 men, landed in Turkey and the 



158 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN " OF EUROPE 

siege of the Russian city of Odessa was begun. Meanwhile the Russians, 

who had crossed the Danube, found it advisable to retreat and withdraw 

_ , across the Pruth, on a threat of hostilities from Austria and 

England and _ .... 

France Come Prussia unless the principalities were evacuated. 

to the Aid of The French had met with heavy losses in an advance 

from Varna, and the British fleet had made an expedition 
against St. Petersburg, but had been checked before the powerful fortress 
of Cronstadt. Such was the state of affairs in the summer of 1854, when 
the allies determined to carry the war into the enemy's territory, attack the 
maritime city of Sebastopol in the Crimea, and seek to destroy the Russian 
naval power in the Black Sea. 

Of the allied armies 15,000 men had already perished. With the 
remaining forces, rather more than 50,000 British and French and 6,000 
Turks, the fleet set sail in September across the Black Sea,- and landed near 
Eupatoria on the west coast of the Crimean peninsula, on the 4th of Sep- 
tember, 1854. Southwards of Eupatoria the sea forms a bay, 
The War in the . ,- , • r 1 1, r x 1 i_ 

Crimea into which, near the ruins of the old town of lnkermann, the 

little river Tschernaja pours itself. On its southern side 
lies the fortified town of Sebastopol, on its northern side strong fortifica- 
tions were raised for the defence of the fleet of war which lay at anchor in 
the bay. Farther north the western mountain range is intersected by the 
river Alma, over which Prince Menzikoff, governor of the Crimea, garrisoned 
the heights with an army of 30,000 men. Against the latter the allies first 
directed their attack, and, in spite of the strong position of the Russians 
on the rocky slopes, Menzikoff was compelled to retreat, owing his escape 
from entire destruction only to the want of cavalry in the army of the allies. 
This dearly bought and bloody battle on the Alma gave rise to hopes of a 
speedy termination of the campaign ; but the allies, weakened and wearied 
by the fearful struggle, delayed a further attack, and Menzikoff gained time 
to strengthen his garrison, and to surround Sebastopol with strong fortifica- 
tions. When the allies approached the town they were soon convinced that 
any attack on such formidable defences would be fruitless, and that they 
must await the arrival of fresh reinforcements and ammunition. The Eng- 
lish took up their position on the Bay of Balaklava, and the French to the 
west, on the Kamiesch. 

There now commenced a sieo-e such as has seldom occurred in the 
history of the world. The first attempt to storm by a united attack of the 
land army and the fleet showed the resistance to be much more formidable 
than had been expected by the allies. Eight days later the English were 
surprised in their strong position near Balaklava by General Liprandi. 



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TURKEY, THE "SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 161 

The battle of Balaklava was decided in favor of the allies, and on the 5th 
November, when Menzikoff had obtained fresh reinfoi 

1 1 1 1 r 1 1 r \ 1 The Battle of 

ments, the murderous battle 01 Inkermann was fought under i$ a iakiava 
the eyes of the two Grand Princes Nicholas and Michael, and 
after a mighty struggle was won by the allied armies. Fighting in the 
ranks were two other princely personages, the Duke of Cambridge and 
Prince Napoleon, son of Jerome, former King of Westphalia. 

01 the engagements here named there is only one to which spi 
attention need I ted, the battle of Balaklava, in which occurred that 

mad but heroic "Charge of the Light Brigade," which has become famous 
in song and story. The purpose of this conflict on the part ol the Rus- 
sians was to cut the line of communication of the allies, by capturing the 
redoubts that guarded them, and thus to enforce a retreat by depriving the 
enemy of suppl 

The day began with a defeat of the Turks and the capture by the 
Russians of several of the redoubts. Then a great body of The Highland- 
Russian cavalry, 3, coo strong, charged upon the 93d High- ers'"Thin, 
landers, who were drawn up in line to receive them. There ,ne 

was comparatively but a handful of these gallant Scotchmen, 550 all told, 
but they have made themselves famous in history as the invincible "thin, 
red line." 

Sir Colin Campbell, their noble leader, said to them : " Remember, 
lads, there is no retreat from here. You must die where you stand." 

"Ay. ay, Sir Colin," shouted the sturdy Highlanders, "we will do 
just that." 

They did not need to. The murderous lire from their "thin, red line" 
was more than the' Russians cared to endure, and they were driven back in 
disorder. 

The British cavalry completed the work ol the infantry. On the 
serried mass of Russian horsemen chai Heavy Brigade, vastly 

interim- to them in number, but inspired with a spirit and courage that 
carried its bold horsemen through the Russian columns with such resistless 
energy that the great body of Muscovite cavalry broke and lied — 3,000 
completely routed by So > gallant dragoons. 

And now came the unfortunate but world-famous event of the day. 
It was due to a mistaken order. Lord Raglan, thinking that the Russians 
intended to carry off the lmius captured in the Turkish ri sent an 

order to the brigade of light cavalry to "advance rapidly to tin- front and 
prevent the enemy from carrying oil the guns." 



1 62 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 

Lord Lucan, to whom the command was brought, did not understand 
Captain Nolan lt - Apparently, Captain Nolan, who conveyed the order, did 
and the Order not clearly explain its purport. 

to Charge "Lord Raglan orders that the cavalry shall attack im- 

mediately," he said, impatient at Lucan's hesitation. 

" Attack, sir ; attack what ?" asked Lucan. 

" There, my lord, is your enemy ; there are your guns," said Nolan, 
with a wave of his hand towards the hostile lines. 

The guns he appeared to indicate were those of a Russian battery at 
the end of the valley, to attack which by an unsupported cavalry charge 
was sheer madness. Lucan rode to Lord Cardigan, in command of the 
cavalry, and repeated the order. 

" But there is a battery in front of us and guns and riflemen on either 
flank," said Cardigan. 

" I know it," answered Lucan. " But Lord Raglan will have it. We 
have no choice but to obey." 

" The brigade will advance," said Cardigan, without further hesitation. 

In a moment more the "gallant six hundred" were in motion — going in 
the wrong direction, as Captain Nolan is thought to have percieved. At 
all events he spurred his horse across the front of the brigade, waving his 
sword as if with the intention to set them right. But no one understood 
him, and at that instant a fragment of shell struck him and hurled him dead 

o 

to the earth. There was no further hope of stopping the mad charge. 

On and on went the devoted Light Brigade, their pace increasing at 
every stride, headed straight for the Russian battery half a league away. 
The Charge As they went fire was opened on them from the guns in flank. 

of the Light Soon they came within range of the guns in front, which 
also opened a raking fire. They were enveloped in " a zone 
of fire, and the air was filled with the rush of shot, the bursting of shells, 
and the moan of bullets, while amidst the infernal din the work of death 
went on, and men and horses were incessantly dashed to the ground." 

But no thought of retreat seems to have entered the minds of those 
brave dragoons and their gallant leader. Their pace increased ; the) 
reached the battery and dashed in among- the guns ; the gunners were cut 
down as they served their pieces. Masses of Russian cavalry standing near 
were charged and forced back. The men fought madly in the face of death 
until the word came to retreat. 

Then, emerging from the smoke of the battle, a feeble remnant of the 
" gallant six hundred" appeared upon the plain, comprising one or two large 
groups, though the most of them were in scattered parties of two or three. 



TURKEY, THE "SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 163 

One group of about seventy men cut their way through tl [uadrons of 

Russian lancers. Another party of equal strength broke through a second 
interceptin Out of some 647 men in all, 247 were killed and wounded, 

and nearly all the horses were slain. Lord Cardigan, the first The Sad F.nd 
to enter the battery, was one of those who came back alive. of a Deed 
The whole affair 1 ipied no more than twenty minutes. 

Mut it was a twenty minutes of which the British nation has ever since be 
proud, and which Tennyson has made famous by one of the most spirit 
stirring of his odes. The French General Bosquet fairly characterized 
it by his often quoted remark .- "C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la 
guerre." (It is magnificent, but it is not \\ 

These battles in the field brought no changes in the state of affairs. 
The siege of Sebastopol went on through the winter of [854 55, during 
which the allied arm)- suffered the utmost misery and privation, partly the 
effect of climate, largely the result of fraud and incompetency at home. 
Sisters of Mercy and self-sacrificing English ladies -chief among them the 
noble Florence Nightingale — strove to assuage the sufferings brought on 
the soldiers by cold, hunger, and disease, but these enemies proved more 
fatal than the sword. 

In the year 1855 the war was carried on with increased energy. Sardi- 
nia joined the allies and sent them an army of [5,000 men. Austria broke with 
Russia anil began preparations for war. And in March the obstinate czar 
Nicholas died and his milder son Alexander took his place. Peace was de- 
manded in Russia, yet 25.000 of her sons had fallen and the honor of the 
nation seemed involved. The war went on, both sides increasing their 
forces. Month by month the allies more closely invested the 1 city. 

After the middle of August the assault became almost incessant, cannon 
balls dropping like 1 an tiiiv torm of hail in forts and streets. 

On the 5th of S» ptember began a terrific bombardment, continuing 
day ami night for three days, and sweeping down more than 5,000 Russians 
on the ramparts. At length, as the hour of noon struck on The Assault en 
September 8th, the attack of which this play of artillery was andCaptu!- 
the prelude began, the French assailing the Malakoff, the of Seb - 
British the Redan, these being the must formidable of the defensive works 
of the town. The French assault was successful and Sebastopol became 
untenable. That night the Russians blew up their remaining forts, sunk 
their ships of war, and marched out of the town, leaving it as the prize of 
victory to the allies. Soon after Russia gained a success by capturing the 
Turkish fortress of Kars, in Asia Minor, and, her honor satisfied with this 
success, a treaty of peace was concluded. In this treaty the Black Sea v 



1 64 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 

made neutral and all ships of war were excluded from its waters, while the 
safety of the Christians of Wallachia, Moldavia and Servia was assured by 
making these principalities practically independent, under the protection of 
the powers of Europe. 

Turkey came out of the war weakened and shorn of territory. But 

the Turkish idea of government remained unchanged, and in twenty years' 

time Russia was fairly goaded into another war. In 1875 

Bosnia Bosnia rebelled in consequence of the insufferable oppression 

of the Turkish tax-collectors. The brave Bosnians maintained 

themselves so sturdily in their mountain fastnesses that the Turks almost 

despaired of subduing them, and the Christian subjects of the Sultan in all 

quarters became so stirred up that a general revolt was threatened. 

The Turks undertook to prevent this in their usual fashion. Irregular 
troops were sent into Christian Bulgaria -with orders to kill all they met. It 
was an order to the Mohammedan taste. The defenceless villages of Bul- 
garia were entered and their inhabitants slaughtered in cold blood, till 
thousands of men, women, and children had been slain. 

When tidings of these atrocities reached Europe the nations were 
filled with horror. The Sultan made smooth excuses, and diplomacy 
The "Bulgarian sought to settle the affair, but it became evident that a mas- 
Horror" and sacre so terrible as this could not be condoned so easily. 
Disraeli, then prime minister of Great Britain, sought to 
dispose of these reports as matters for jest ; but Gladstone, at that time in 
retirement, arose in his might, and by his pamphlet on the " Bulgarian 
Horrors" so aroused public sentiment in England that the government 
dared not back up Turkey in the coming war. 

Hostilities were soon proclaimed. The Russians, of the same race and relig- 
ious sect as the Bulgarians, were excited beyond control, and in April, 1877, 
Alexander II. declared war against Turkey The outrages of the Turks had 
been so flagrant that no allies came to their aid, while the rottenness of 
their empire was shown by the rapid advance of the Russian armies. 

They crossed the Danube in June. In a month later they had 
occupied the principal passes of the Balkan mountains and were in posi- 
tion to descend on the broad plain that led to Constantinople. But at this 
point in their career they met with a serious check. Osman Pasha, the 
single Turkish commander of ability that the war developed, occupied the 
town of Plevna with such forces as he could gather, fortified it as strongly 
as possible, and from behind its walls defied the Russians. 

They dared not advance and leave this stronghold in their rear. For 
five months all the power of Russia and the skill of its generals were held in 



TURKEY, THE "SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 165 

check by this brave man and his few followers, until Europe and America 
alike looked on with admiration at his remarkable defence, in view of which 
the cause of the war was almost forgotten. The Russian osman Pacha 
general Krudener was repulsed with the loss of 8,000 men. and the De- 
The daring Skobeleff strove in vain to launch his troops over enceo eNna 
Osman 's walls. At length General Todleben undertook the adopting 

the slow but safe method of starving out the defenders. ( Israan Pacha now 
showed his coura he had already shown his endurance. When hui 

and disease he.. in to reduce the strength of his men, he resolve on a final 
desperate effort. Atthe head of his brave garrison the "Lion of Plevna" 
sallied from the city, and fought with desperate courage to break through 
the circle of his foes. He was finally driven back into the city and com- 
pelled to surrender. 

Osman had won glory, and his fall was the fall of the Turkish cause. 
The Russians crossed the Balkan, capturing in the Schipka Pass a Turkish 
army of 30,000 men. Adrianople was taken, and the Turk- The Total i>e- 
ish line of retreat cut off. The Russians marched to the feat of the 
Bosporus, and the Sultan was compelled to sue for peace to ur * 
save his capital from falling into the hands of the Christians, as it had fallen 
into those' of the Turks lour centuries before. 

Russia had won the game for which she had made so long a struggle. 
The treaty of San Stefano practically decreed the dissolution of the Turkish 
Empire. But at this juncture the other nations of Europe took part. 
They were not content to see the balance of power destroyed by Russia 
becoming master of Constantinople, and England demanded that the treaty 
should be revised by the European power-,. Russia protested, but Disraeli 
threatened war, and the czar gave way. 

The Congress of Berlin, to which the treaty was referred, s< ttled the 
question in the following manner: Montenegro, Roumania, and Servia were 
lared independent, and Bulgaria became fn pt that 

TTlic Coivrc ts 
it had to pay an annual tribute to the sultan. The part of of Berlin' 

Bulgaria that lay south of the Balkan Mountains was 
named East Roumelia and given its own civil government, but was left 
under the military control of Turkey. Bosnia and 1 1 ina were placed 

under the control of Austria. All that Russia obtained for her victories 
were some provinces in Asia Minor. Turkey was terribly shorn, and since 
then her power has been further reduced, for East Roumelia has broken 
loose from her control and united itself again to Bulgaria 

Another twenty years passed, and Turkey found itself at war again. It 
was the old story, the oppression of the Christians This time the trouble 



i66 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 

began in Armenia, a part of Turkey in Asia, where in 1895 and 1896 
terrible massacres took place. Indignation reigned in Europe, but fears 
The Turks in °f a general war kept them from using force, and the sultan 

Armenia and paid no heed to the reforms he promised to make. 

In 1896 the Christians of the island of Crete broke out in 
revolt against the oppression and tyranny of Turkish rule. Of all the powers 
of Europe little Greece was the only one that came to their aid, and the great 
nations, still inspired with the fear of a general war, sent their fleet and 
threatened Greece with blockade unless she would withdraw her troops. 

The result was one scarcely expected. Greece was persistant, and 
gathered a threatening army on the frontier of Turkey, and war broke out in 
1897 between the two states. The Turks now, under an able commander, 
showed much of their ancient valor and intrepidity, crossing the frontier, de- 
feating the Greeks in a rapid series of engagements, and occupying Thessaly. 
while the Greek army was driven back in a state of utter demoralization. 
At this juncture, when Greece lay at the mercy of Turkey, as Turkey had 
The War Be= ^ am at tnat °f Russia twenty years before, the powers, which 

tween Turkey had refused to aid Greece in her g-enerous but hopeless effort, 

AC 01 

stepped in to save her from ruin. Turkey was bidden to call 
a halt, and the sultan reluctantly stopped the march of his army. He de- 
manded the whole of Thessaly and a large indemnity in money. The former 
the powers refused to grant, and reduced the indemnity to a sum within the 
power of Greece to pay. Thus the affair ended, and such is the status of 
the Eastern Question to-day. But it may be merely a question of time 
when Russia shall accomplish her long-cherished design, and become master 
of Constantinople ; possibly by the way of Asia, in which her power is now 
so rapidly and widely extending. 



CHAPTER XI. 
The European Revolution of 1848. 

THE revolution of 1830 did not bring ; tnd quiet to France nor 

to Europe. In France the people grew dissatisfied with their new 

monarch; in Europe generally they demanded a greater share of 
liberty. Louis Philippe delayed to extend the suffrage; he used his high 
position to add to his great riches ; he failed to win the hearts of the 
French, and was widely accused of selfishness and greed. There were 
risings of legitimists in favor of the Bourbons, while the republican element w 
opposed to monarchy. No less than eight attempts were made to remove the 
king by assassination — all of them failures, but they showed opposition in 
the disturbed state of public feeling. Liberty, equality, fra- France to 
ternity became the watchwords of the working classes, social- Louis Philippe 
istic ideas arose and spread, and the industrial element of the various 
nations became allied in one great body of revolutionists known as the 
" Internationalists." 

In Germany the demand of the people for political rights grew until it 
reached a crisis. The radical writings of the "Young Germans," the 
stirring songs of their poets, the bold utterances of the press, the doctrines 
o! the " Friends of Light" among the Protestants and of the " German 
Catholics" among the Catholics, all went to show that the people we 
deeply dissatisfied alike with the state arid the church. They were rapidly 
arousing from their sluggish acceptance of the work of the Congress of 
Vienna oi [815, and the spirit oi liberty was in the air. 

The King of Prussia, Frederick William IV., saw danger ahead. He 
came king in 1840 and lost no time in trying to make his 

, , . , .. , , , Revolutionary 

rule popular by reforms. An edict oi toleration was issued, sentiment in 
the sittings oi the courts were opened to the public, and the Germany and 
Estates of the provinces were called to meet in Berlin. In y 

the convening of a Parliament he had given the people a voice. The 
Estates demanded J imofthi pi id of the state with such eloquence 

and energy that the king dared not resist them. The people had i a 

great step in their progress towards liberty. 

(167) 



1 68 THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF 1S48 

In Italy also the persistent demands of the people met with an encour- 
aging response. The Pope, Pius IX., extended the freedom of the press, 
gave a liberal charter to the City of Rome, and began the formation of an 
Italian confederacy. In Sicily a revolutionary outbreak took place, and the 
King of Naples was compelled to give his people a constitution and a 
parliament. His example was followed in Tuscany and Sardinia. The 
tyrannical Duke of Modena was forced to fly from the vengeance of his 
people, and the throne of Parma became vacant by the death in 1847 of 
Maria Louisa, the widow of Napoleon Bonaparte, a woman little loved and 
Ifss respected. 

The Italians were filled with hope by these events. Freedom and the 
unity of Italy loomed up before their eyes. Only two obstacles stood in 
their way, the Austrians and the Jesuits, and both of these were bitterly 
hated. Gioberti, the enemy of the Jesuits, was greeted with cheers, under 
which might be heard harsh cries of " Death to the Germans." 

Such was the state of affairs at the beginning of 1848. The measure 
of liberty granted the people only whetted their appetite for more, and over 
all Western Europe rose an ominous murmur, the voice of the people 
demanding the rights of which they had so long been deprived. In France 
this demand was growing dangerously insistant ; in Paris, the centre ol 
European revolution, it threatened an outbreak. Reform banquets were 
the order of the day in France, and one was arranged for in Paris to signa 
lize the meeting of the Chambers. 

Guizot, the historian, who was then minister of foreign affairs, had 

deeply offended the liberal party of France by his reactionary policy. The 

government threw fuel on the fire by forbidding the banquet and taking 

steps to suppress it by military force. The people were enraged 
The Outbreak . , . r , , . .... 

in Paris "Y tnis i a ^ se ste P an d began to gather in excited groups. 

Throngs of them — artisans, students, and tramps — were soon 

marching through the streets, with shouts of "Reform! Down with Guizot !" 

The crowds rapidly increased and grew more violent. The people were too 

weak to cope with them ; the soldiers were loath to do so ; soon barricades 

were erected and fighting began. 

For two days this went on. Then the king, alarmed at the situation, 

dimissed Guizot and promised reform, and the people, satisfied for the time 

and proud of their victory, paraded the streets with cheers and songs. All 

now might have gone well but for a hasty and violent act on the part of the 

troops. About ten o'clock at night a shouting and torch-bearing throng 

marched through the Boulevards, singing and waving flags. Reaching the 

Ministry of Foreign Affairs, they halted and called for its illumination. 



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THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF li 171 

The troops on duty then- interfered, and, on an insult to their colonel ami 
the firing of a shot from the mob, they replied with a volley, before which 
fifty-two of the people fill killed and wounded. 

This reckless and sanguinary deed was enough to turn revolt into 
revolution. The cocpses were carried on biers through the streets by the 
infuriati >ple, the accompanying torch-bearers shouting: R ev0 | t 

'To arms! they an- murdering us !" At midnight the tocsin Becomes 
call ran- from the bells of Notre Dame ; the barricades, which Revolution 
had been partly removed, were restored; and the next morning, February 
24, 1S4S, Paris was in arms. In the str that followed they were 

quickly victorious, and the capital was in their hands. 

Louis Philippe followed the example of Charles X.. abdicated his 
throne and fled to England. After the fate of Louis XVI. no monarch 
was willing to wait and face a Paris mob. The kingdom was overthrown, 
and a republic, the second which France had known, was established, the 
ed I Hipont de FEure being chosen president. The poet Lamartine, 
the socialist Louis Blanc, the statesmen Ledru-Rollin and Arago became 
members of the Cabinet, and all looked forward to a reign The Second 
of peace and prosperity. The socialises tried the experi- French 
ment of establishing national workshops in which artisans epu 
were to be employed at the expense of the state, with the idea that this 
would give work to all. 

Yet the expected prosperity did not come. The state was soon deeply 
in debt, many of the people remained unemployed, and the condition of in- 
dustry grew worse day by day. The treasury proved incapable of paying the 
state arl i sans, and the public workshops wen.' closed. In June the trouble came 
to a crisis and a new and sanguinary outbreak began, instigated by the 
hungry and disappointed workmen, and led by the advocates of the " Red 
Republic," who acted with ferocious brutality. General Brea and the Arch- 
bishop of Paris were murdered, and the work of slaughter grew so horrible 
that the National Assembly, to put an end to it, made General Cavaignac 
dictator and commissioned him to put down the revolt. A terrible struggle 
ensued between the mob and the troops, ending in the suppression of the 
revolt and the arrest and banishment of many of its ringleaders. Ten or 
twelve thousand people had been killed. The National Assembly adopted 
a republican constitution, under which a single- legislative chamber and a 
president t<> be elected every four years were provided lor. The assembly 
wished to make General Cavaignac president, but the nation, blinded by 
their faith in the name of tin great a mqueror, elected by an almost unani- 
mous vote his nephew, Louis Napoleon, a man who had suttered a long 



i 7 2 THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF 1848 

term of imprisonment for his several attempts against the reign of the late 

king. The revolution, for the time being, was at an end, and France was 

a republic again. 

The effect of this revolution in France spread far and wide through 

Europe. Outbreaks occurred in Italy, Poland, Switzerland and Ireland, 

and in Germany the revolutionary fever burned hot. Baden 
Fffect of the 
Revolution was the first state to yield to the demands of the people for 

of 1848 in freedom of the press, a parliament and other reforms, and 

went so far as to abolish the imposts still remaining from 

feudal times. The other minor states followed its example. In Saxony v 

Wiirtemberg and other states class abuses were abolished, liberals given 

prominent positions under government, the suffrage and the legislature 

reformed, and men of liberal sentiment summoned to discuss the formation 

of new constitutions. 

But it was in the great despotic states of Germany — Prussia and Aus- 
tria — that the liberals gained the most complete and important victory, and 
went farthest in overthrowing autocratic rule and establishing constitutional 
government. The great Austrian statesman who had been a leader in the 
Congress of Vienna and who had suppressed liberalism in Italy, Prince Met- 
ternich, was still, after more than thirty years, at the head of 
His System affairs in Vienna. He controlled the policy of Austria; his 
word was law in much of Germany; time had cemented his 
authority, and he had done more than any other man in Europe in maintain- 
ing despotism and building a dam against the rising flood of liberal senti- 
ment. 

But the hour of the man who had destroyed the work of Napoleon was 
at hand. He had failed to recognize the spirit of the age or to perceive 
that liberalism was deeply penetrating Austria. To most of the younger 
statesmen of Europe the weakness of his policy and the rottenness of his 
system were growing apparent, and it was evident that they must soon fall 
before the onslaught of the advocates of freedom. 

An incitement was needed, and it came in the news of the Paris revohi' 
tion. At once a hot excitement broke out everywhere in Austria. From 
Hungary came a vigorous demand for an independent parliament, reform of 
the constitution, decrease of taxes, and relief from the burden of the na- 
tional debt of Austria. From Bohemia, whose rights and privileges had 
been seriously interfered with in the preceding year, came similar demands. 
In Vienna itself the popular outcry for increased privileges grew insistant. 

The excitement of the people was aggravated by their distrust of the 
paper money of the realm and by a great depression in commerce and indua 



THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF 1848 173 

try. Daily more workmen were thrown out of employment, and s> ■■ 
throngs of the hungry and discontented gathered in th is. Stu 

as usual, led away by their boyish love of excitement, were 
the first to create a disturbance, but others soon joined in, i n Vienna 
and the affair quickly became serio 

The old system was evidently at an end The policy of Metternich 
could restrain the people no longer. Lawlessness became general, exi 
,xvere committed by the mob, the dwellings of those whom the popula 
hated were attacked and plundered, the authorities were resisted with arms, 
and the danger of an overthrow of the government grew imminent. T 
press, which had gained freedom of utterance, added to the peril of the 
situation by its inflammatory appeals to the people, and by its violence 
checked the progress of the reforms which it demanded. Metternich, by his 
system of restraint, had kept the people in ignorance of the first principles 
of political affairs, and the liberties which they now asked foi 1 them 

to be unadapted to a liberal government. The old minister, whose system 
was falling in ruins about him, lied from the country and sought a refuge in 
England, that haven of political failures. 

In May, 1S4S, the emperor, alarmed at the threatening state of affairs, 
left his capital and withdrew to Innsbruck. The tidings () f his withdrawal 
stirred the people to passion, and the outbreak of mob Flight and Re» 
violence which followed was the fiercest and most dangerous turn of the 
that had yet occurred. Gradually, however, the tumult was Emperor 
appeased, a constitutional assembly was called into being and opened by the 
Archduke John, and the Emperor Ferdinand re-entered Vienna amid the 
warm acclamations of the people. Idle outbreak was at an end. Austria 
had been converted from an absolute to .1 constitutional monarch)'. 

In Berlin the spirit of revolution became as marked as in Vienna. The 

King resisted the demands of the people, who soon cam'- into conflict with 

the soldiers, a fierce street fight breaking out which continued with violence 

for two weeks. The revolutionists demanded the removal of the troops 

and the formation of a citizen militia, ami the kin-", alarmed _ „ . 

Revolt in 

at the dangerous crisis in affairs, at last assented. The troops Prussia and 
were accordingly withdrawn, the obnoxious ministry was dis- theGerman 
missed, and a citizen-guard was created for tin- defence of the 
city. Three days afterwards the king promised to govern as a constitu- 
tional monarch, an assembly was elected by universal suffrage, and to it was 
given the work of preparing a constitution for the Prussian state. Here, 
as in Austria, the revolutionists had won the day and irresponsible rrovern- 
ment was at an end- 



i 74 THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF 1848 

Elsewhere in Germany radical changes were taking place. King Louis 
of Bavaria, who had deeply offended his people, resigned in favor of his son. 
The Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt did the same. Everywhere the liberals 
were in the ascendant, and were gaining freedom of the press and constitu- 
tional government. The formation of Germany into a federal empire was 
proposed and adopted, and a National Assembly met at Frankfort on May 
18, 1848. It included many of the ablest men of Germany. Its principal 
work was to organize a union under an irresponsible executive, who was to 
be surrounded by a responsible ministry. The Archduke John of Austria 
was selected to fill this new, but brief imperial position, and made a solemn 
entry into Frankfort on the nth of July. 

All this was not enough for the ultra radicals. They determined to 
found a German republic, and their leaders, Hecker and Struve, called the 
people to arms. An outreak took place in Baden, but it was quickly sup- 
pressed, and the republican movement came to a speedy end. In the north 
The Schleswig= war broke out between Denmark and Schleswig-Holstein, 
Holstein united duchies which desired to be freed from Danish rule 

and annexed to Germany, and called for German aid. But 
just then the new German Union was in no condition to come to their assistance, 
and Prussia preferred diplomacy to war, with the result that Denmark came 
out victorious from the contest. As will be seen in a later chapter, Prussia, 
under the energetic leadership of Bismarck, came, a number of years after- 
wards, to the aid of these discontented duchies, and they were finally torn 
from Danish control. 

While these exciting events were taking place in the north, Italy was 
swept with a storm of revolution from end to end. Metternich was no 
longer at hand to keep it in check, and the whole peninsula seethed with re- 
volt. Sicily rejected the rule of the Bourbon king of Naples, chose the 
Duke of Genoa, son of Charles Albert of Sardinia, for its 
and Sardinia king, an d during a year fought for liberty. This patriotic effort 
of the Sicilians ended in failure. The Swiss mercenaries of 
the Neapolitan king captured Syracuse and brought the island into subjec- 
tion, and the tyrant hastened to abolish the constitution which he had been 
frightened into granting in his hour of extremity. 

In the north of Italy war broke out between Austria and Sardinia. 
Milan and Venice rose against the Austrians and drove out their garrisons, 
throughout Lombarcly the people raised the standard of independence, and 
Charles Albert of Sardinia called his people to arms and invaded that coun- 
try, striving to free it and the neighboring state of Venice from Austrian 
rule. For a brief season he was successful, pushing the Austrian troops to 



THE El 'KOP1-:. LV RE I '< >/. f ' Tli >X < )F 1848 175 

the frontiers, but the old Marshal Radetzky defeated htm at Verona and 
compelled him to sei k safety in flight. The nexl year he renewed his 
tempt, but with no better success. Depressed by his failure, he resigned the 
crown io his son Victor Emmanuel, who made a disadvantageous peace with 
Austria. Venice held out for several months, but was finally subdued, and 
Austrian rule was restored in the north. 

.Meanwhile the pope, I'ius IX., offended his people by his unwillingn 
to aid Sardinia against Austria, lie promised to grant a constitutional 
government and convened an Assembly in koine, but the 

'. . . , . . , The Revolution 

Democratic people ol the state were not content with in liomc 
feeble concessions of this kind. Rossi, prime minister of the 
state, was assassinated, and the pope, filled with alarm, fled in disguise, leav- 
ing the Papal dominion to the revolutionists, who at once proclaimed a 
republic and confiscated the property of the Church. 

Mazzini, the leader of " Young Italy," the ardent revolutionist who had 
long worked in exile for Italian independence, entered the Eternal City, and 
with him Garibaldi, long a political refugee in America and a gallant parti- 
san leader in the recent war with Austria. The arrival of these celebrated 
revolutionists filled the democratic party in Rome with the greatest enthu- 
siasm, and it was resolved to defend the States of the Church to the last 
extremity, viewing them as the final asylum of Italian liberty. 

In this extremity the pope called on France for aid. That country 
responded by sending an army, which landed at Civita-Vecchia and marched 
upon and surrounded Rome. The new-comers declared that they came as 
friends, not as foes; it was not their purpose to overthrow the republic, but 
to defend the capital from Austria and Naples. The leaders of the insur- 
gents in Rome did not trust their pn - and promises and refused their. 
admittance. A fierce struggle followed. The republicans capture of 
defended themselves stubbornly. For weeks they defied the Rome by the 
orts of General Oudinot and his troops. Rutin the end '" rcnch Army 
they were forced to yield, a conditional submission was made, and the French 
soldiers occupied the city. Garibaldi, Mazzini, and others of the leaders 
'i. to flight, and the old conditions were gradually resumed under the con- 
trolling influence of French bayonets. For years afterwards the French 
held the city as the allies and guard of the po 

The revolutionary spirit, which had given rise to war in Italy, yielded 
a still more resolute and sanguinary conflict in Hungarv, 

, , ,. . , , . , 1 x , ,. ' The Outbreak 

whose people were divided against themselves. 1 he Magyars, fn Hungary 
the descendants of the old Huns, who demanded govern- 
mental institutions of their own, separate from these of Austria, though 
10 



! 76 THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF iSj.8 

under the Austrian monarch, were opposed by the Slavonic part of che 
population, and war began between them. Austrian troops were ordered 
to the aid of Jellachich, the ruler of the Slavs of Croatia in South Hungary, 
but their departure was prevented by the democratic people of Vienna, 
who rose in violent insurrection, induced by their sympathy with the 
Magyars. 

The whole city was quickly in tumult, an attack was made on the 
arsenals, and the violence became so great that the emperor again took to 
flight. War in Austria followed. A strong army was sent to subdue the 
rebellious city, which was stubbornly defended, the students' club being the 
centre of the revolutionary movement. Jellachich led his Croatians to the 
aid of the emperor's troops, the city was surrounded and besieged, sallies 
and assaults were of daily occurrence, and for a week and more a bloody 
conflict continued day and night. Vienna was finally taken by storm, the 
Vienna Cap. troops forcing their way into the streets, where shocking 
turedby scenes of murder and violence took place. On November 21, 

1848, Jellachich entered the conquered city, martial law was 
proclaimed, the houses were searched, the prisons filled with captives, and 
the leaders of the insurrection put to death. 

Shortly afterwards the Emperor Ferdinand abdicated the throne in 
favor of his youthful nephew, Francis Joseph, who at once dissolved the con- 
stitutional assembly and proclaimed a new constitution and a new code of 
laws. Hungary was still in arms, and offered a desperate resistance to the 
Austrians, who now marched to put down the insurrection. They found it 
no easy task. The fiery eloquence of the orator Kossuth roused the 
Magyars to a desperate resistance, Polish leaders came to their support, 
foreign volunteers strengthened their ranks, Gorgey, their chief leader, 
showed great military skill, and the Austrians were driven out and the 
fortresses taken. The independence of Hungary was now proclaimed, and a 
government established under Kossuth as provisional president. 

The repulse of the Austrians nerved the young emperor to more 

The Hungarian strenuous exertions. The aid of Russia was asked, and the 

Revoltandits insurgent state invaded on three sides, by the Croatians from 

the south, the Russians from the north, and the Austrians, 

under the brutal General Haynau, from the west. 

The conflict continued for several months, but quarrels between the 
Hungarian leaders weakened their armies, and in August, 1849, Gorgey, 
who had been declared dictator, surrendered to the invaders, Kossuth and 
the other leaders seeking safety in flight. Haynau made himself infamous 
by his cruel treatment of the Hungarian people, particularly by his use of 



77//: EURi >/'/•:. IX RE I '( '/ 1 Tf< W OF 1848 177 

the lash upon women Misconduct raised such wide-spread indignation 
that he was roughly handled l>y a party of brewers, on his visit to London 
in 1850. 

With the fall of Hungary the revolutionary movement of 1848 came to 
an end. The German Union had already disappeared. There wen' various 
other disturbances, besides those we have recorded, but finally all the states 
settled down to peace and quiet. Its results had been L;reat in increasing 
the political privileges of the people of Western Europe, and with it the 
reign of despotism in that section of the continent came to an end. 

The greatest hero of the war in Hungary was undoubtedly Louis 
Kossuth, whose name has remained familiar among those of the patriots of 
his century. From Hungary he made his way to Turkey, where he was 
imprisoned fortwo years at Kutaieh, being finally released through the inter- 
vention of the governments of Great Britain and the United States. He then 
visited England, where he was received with enthusiastic, popular demon- 
strations and ma eral admirable speeches in the English language, of 
which he had excellent command. In the autumn of 1 S 5 1 he came to the 
United States, where he had a I ig reception and spoke on the wr< 
of Hungary to enthusiastic audiences in the principal cities. 



CHAPTER XII 

Louis Napoleon and the Second French Empire. 

TM4E name of Napoleon is a name to conjure with in France. Two 
generations after the fall of Napoleon the Great, the people of that 
country had practically forgotten the misery he had brought them, 
and remembered only the glory with which he had crowned the name of 
France. When, then, a man whom we may fairly designate as Napoleon 
the Small offered himself for their suffrages, they cast their votes almost 
unanimously in his favor. 

Charles Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, to give this personage his full 
name, was a son of Louis Bonaparte, once king of Holland, and Hortense 
de Beauharnais, and had been recognized by Napoleon as, after his father, 
Louis Napoleon tne direct successor to the throne. This he made strenuous 
and His Claim efforts to obtain, hoping to dethrone Louis Philippe and in- 
to the Throne sta] j himself ; n his pla ^ e . i n l836) w ith a few followers, he 

made an attempt to capture Strasbourg. His effort failed and he was 
arrested and transported to the United States. In 1839 he published a 
work entitled " Napoleonic Ideas," which was an apology for the ambitious 
acts of the first Napoleon. 

The growing unpopularity of Louis Philippe tempted him at this 
time to make a second attempt to invade France. He did it in a rash way 
almost certain to end in failure. Followed by about fifty men, and bringing 
with him a tame eagle, which was expected to perch upon his banner as the 
harbinger of victory, he sailed from England in August, 1840, and landed 
at Boulogne. This desperate and foolish enterprise proved a complete 
A Rash and failure. The soldiers whom the would-be usurper expected 

Unsuccessful to join his standard arrested him, and he was tried for treason 
by the House of Peers. This time he was not dealt with so 
leniently as before, but was sentenced to imprisonment for life and was 
confined in the Castle of Ham. From this fortress he escaped in disguise 
in May, 1846, and made his way to England. 

The revolution of 1848 gave the restless and ambitious adventurer a 
more promising opportunity. He returned to France, was elected to the 
National Assembly, and on the adoption of the republican constitution 
(178) 





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THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 181 

offered himself as a candidate for the Presidency of the new republic. And 
now the magic of the name of Napoleon told. < General Cavaignac, his 
chief competitor, was supported by the solid men of the country, who dis- 
trusted the adventurer; but the people res.- almost solidly in his support, 
and he was elected president for four years by 5,562,834 votes, against 
1,469.166 for Cavaignac. 

new President of France soon showed his ambition. He became 

ige.d in a contest with the Assembly and aroused the « lis- An Autocratic 
trust of the Republicans by his autocratic tone-,. In 1 S49 he President of 
still further offended the Democratic part)- by sending an France 
army to Rome, which put an end to the republic in that city. He sought 
to make his Cabinet officers the pliant instruments of his will, and thus 
caused I )c I'ocqueville, the celebrated author, who was minister for foreign 
affairs, to resign. "We were not the men to serve him on those terms," 
said De Tocqueville, at a later time. 

The new-made president was feeling his way to imperial dignity. He 
could not forget that his illustrious uncle had made himself emperor, and 
his ambition instigated him to the same course. A violent controversy 
arose between him and the Assembly, which body passed a law restricting 
universal suffrage, and thus reducing the popular support of the president. 
In fune, 1850, it increased his salary at his request, but granted the incn 
only for one year an act of distrust which proved a new source of disi 

Louis Napoleon meanwhile was preparing for a daring act. He 

tly obtained the support of the army leaders and prepared covertl 
the boldi of his life. On the 2d of December, 1851.— the Coup d'etat 

the anniversary of the establishment <>l tlv and of Louis 

of the battle of Austerlitz, — he got rid of his nts by Na P oleon 

means of the memorable coup d eiat, and seized the supreme power of the state. 

The most influential members of the Assembly had been arrested during 
the preceding night, and when the hour for th ion oi the House- came 

the men most strongly op to the usurper were in prison. .Most ot 

them were afterwards exiled, some tor life, some for shorter terms. 1 his 
act of outrage and violation of the plighted faith of the president roused 
the Socialists and Republicans to the defence of their threatened liberties, 
insurrections broke out in Paris, Lyons, and other towns, street barricades 
were built, and severe fighting took place. But Napoleon had secured the 
army, and the revolt was suppressed with blood and slaughter. Baudin, one 
of the deposed deputies, was shot on the barricade in the Faubourg St. 
Antoine, while waving in his hand th< of the constitution. He was 

afterwards honored as a martyr to the cause of republicanism in France. 



i82 THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 

The usurper had previously sought to gain the approval of the people 
by liberal and charitable acts, and to win the goodwill of the civic authori- 
How Napoleon ties by numerous progresses through the interior. He posed 
Won Popular as a protector and promoter of national prosperity and the 
Support rights of the people, and sought to lay upon the Assembly all 

the defects of his administration. By these means, which aided to awaken 
the Napoleonic fervor in the state, he was enabled safely to submit his acts 
of violence and bloodshed to the approval of the people. The new consti- 
tution offered by the president was put to vote, and was adopted by the 
enormous majority of more than seven million votes. By its terms Louis 
Napoleon was to be president of France for ten years, with the power of a 
monarch, and the Parliament was to consist of two bodies, a Senate and a 
Legislative House, which were given only nominal power. 

This was as far as Napoleon dared to venture at that time. A year 

Louis Napoleon l ater > on December i, 1852, having meanwhile firmly cemented 

is Elected his power, he passed from president to emperor, again by a 

mperor vote of the people, of whom, according to the official report, 

7,824,189 cast their votes in his favor. 

Thus ended the second French republic, an act of usurpation of the 
basest and most unwarranted character. The partisans of the new emperor 
were rewarded with the chief offices of the state ; the leading republicans 
languished in prison or in exile for the crime of doing their duty to their 
constituents ; and Armand Marrest, the most zealous champion of the 
republic, died of a broken heart from the overthrow of all his efforts and 
aspirations. The honest soldier and earnest patriot, Cavaignac, in a few 
years followed him to the grave. The cause of liberty in France seemed lost. 

The crowning of a new emperor of the Napoleonic family in France 
naturally filled Europe with apprehensions. But Napoleon III., as he 
styled himself, was an older man than Napoleon I., and seemingly less 
likely to be carried away by ambition. His favorite motto, "The Empire 
is peace," aided to restore quietude, and gradually the nations began to 
trust in his words, " France wishes for peace ; and when France is satisfied 
the world is quiet." 

Warned by one of the errors of his uncle, he avoided seeking a wife in 

the royal families of Europe, but allied himself with a Spanish lady of noble 

rank, the young and beautiful Eugenie de Montijo, duchess of 

theBrnDeror Teba. At the same time he proclaimed that, "A sovereign 

raised to the throne by a new principle should remain faithful 

to that principle, and in the face of Europe frankly accept the position of 

a parvenu, which is an honorable title when it is obtained by the public 



THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 18.3 

suffrage of a great people For seventy years all princes' daughters mar- 
ried to rulers of France have been unfortunate; only one, fosephine, was 
remembered with affection by the French people, and she was not born of a 

royal house." 

The new emperor sought by active public works and acts of charity 
to win the approval of the people. He recognized the necessity of aiding 
the working classes as far as possible, and protecting them from poverty and 
wretchedness. During a dearth in 1S53 a "baking fund" was organized in 
Paris, the city contributing funds to enable bread to b at a low price. 

1 'ains and embankments were built along the rivers to overcome l cts 

of floods. New streets were opened, bridges built, railways constructed, to 
increase internal traffic. Splendid buildings were erected for p u biic Works 
municipal and government purposes. Paris was given a new inPan'sand 
aspect by pulling down its narrow lanes, and building wide Frar, ce 
streets and magnificent boulevards— the latter, as was charged, for ; 
purpose ol depriving insurrection ol its lurking places. The great exhibi- 
tion of arts and industries in London was followed in 1854 by one in 
France, the largest and finest seen up to that time. Trade and industry 
were fostered by a reduction of tariff charges, joint stock companies and 
credit associations were favored, and in many ways Napoleon III. worked 
wisely and well for the prosperity ol France, the growth of its industrii 
and the improvement of the condition of its people. 

Hut the new empi ror, while thus actively engaged in labors of peace, 
by no means lived up to the spirit of his motto, " The Empire is peace." 
An empire founded upon the army needs to give employment to that army. 
A monarchy sustained by the votes of a people athirst for The Ambition 
glory needs to do something to appease that thirst. A throne of the Em- 
idled by a Napoleon could not safely ignore the " Napo- perc 
Iconic Ideas," and the first of these might be stated as "The Empire is 
war." And the new emperor was by no means satisfied to pose simply as 
the " nephew of his uncle." 1 le possessed a large share of the Napoleonic 
ambition, and hoped by military glory to surround his throne with some of 
the lustre of that of Napoleon the First. 

Whatever his private views, it is certain that France under his reign 
became the most aggressive nation of Europe, and the overweening 
ambition and self-confidence of the new emperor led him to the same end 
as his great uncle, that of disaster and overthrow. 

The very beginning of Louis Napoleon's career of greatness, as presi- 
dent of the French Republic, was signalized by an act of military aggression, 
in sending his army to Rome ami putting an end to the new Italian repub- 



1 84 THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 

lie. These troops were kept there until 1866, and the aspirations of the 
Italian patriots were held in check until that year. Only when United Italy 
stood menacingly at the gates of Rome were these foreign troops with- 
drawn. 

In 1854 Napoleon allied himself with the British and the Turks against 
Russia, and sent an army to the Crimea, which played an effective part in 

the great strug-o-le in that peninsula. The troops of France 
The French in , , , . && f , • o 1 1 li 

the Crimea nac * tne honor 01 rendering Sebastopol untenable, carrying 

by storm one of its two great fortresses and turning its guns 

upon the city. 

The next act of aggression of the French emperor was against Aus- 
tria. As the career of conquest of Napoleon I. had begun with an attack 
upon the Austrians in Italy, Napoleon III. attempted a similar enterprise, 
and with equal success. He had long been cautiously preparing in secret 
for hostilities with Austria, but lacked a satisfactory excuse for declaring 
Orsini's At= war - This came in 1858 from an attempt at assassination. 
temptatAs- Felice Orsini, a fanatical Italian patriot, incensed at Napoleon 
from his failing to come to the aid of Italy, launched three 
explosive bombs against his carriage. The effect was fatal to many of the 
people in the street, though the intended victim escaped. Orsini won sym- 
pathy while in prison by his patriotic sentiments and the steadfastness of 
his love for his country. " Remember that the Italians shed their blood for 
Napoleon the great," he wrote to the emperor. " Liberate my country, and 
the blessings of twenty-five millions of people will follow you to posterity." 

Louis Napoleon had once been a member of a secret political society 
of Italy ; he had taken the oath of initiation ; his failure to come to the aid 
of that country when in power constituted him a traitor to his oath and one 
doomed to death ; the act of Orsini seemed the work of the society. That 
he was deeply moved by the attempted assassination is certain, and the re- 
sult of his combined fear and ambition was soon to be shown. 

On New Year's Day, 1859, while receiving the diplomatic corps at the 
Tuileries, Napoleon addressed the following significant words to the Aus- 
trian ambassador : " I regret that our relations are not so cordial as I could 
wish, but I beg you to report to the Emperor that my personal sentiments 
towards him remain unaltered." 

The Warlike Such is the masked way in which diplomats announce an 

Attitude of intention of war. The meaning of the threatening words was 

France and soon sno wn, when Victor Emmanuel, shortly afterwards, 
Sardinia 

announced at the opening of the Chambers in Turin that 

Sardinia could no longer remain indifferent to the cry for help which was 



THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 185 

rising from all Italy. Ten years had passed since the defeat of the Sar- 
dinians on the plains of Lombardy. During that time they had cheri 
a hope of retribution, and it was now evident that an alliance had been 
made with France and that the hour of vengeance was at hand. 

Austria was ready for the contest. Her finances, indeed, were in a 
serious state, but she had a large army in Lombardy. This was incre; 
Lombard)- was declared in a state of siege, and every step was taken to 
guard againsl assault from Sardinia. Delay was disadvantageous to A .. 
as it would permit her enemies to complete their preparations, and on April 
23, 1S59, an ultimatum came from Vienna, demanding that Sardinia should 
put her army on a peace footing or war would ensue, 

A refusal came from Turin. Immediately field-marshal Gyulai re- 
ceived orders to cross the Ticino. Thus, after ten years of peace, the beau- 
tiful plains of Northern Italy were once more to endure the \j van ceofthe 
ravages of war. This act of Austria was severely criticised Austrian 
by the neutral powers, which had been seeking to allay the Arm >' 
trouble. Napoleon took advantage of it, accusing Austria of breaking the 
peace by invading the territory of his ally, the king of Sardinia. 

The real fault committed by Austria, under the circumstances, was not 
in precipitating war, which could not well be avoided in the temper of her 
antagonists, but in putting, through court favor and privileges of rank, an 
incapable leader at the head of the army. Old Radetzky, the victor in the 
last war, was dead, but there were other able leaders who were thrust aside 
in favor of the Hungarian noble Franz Gyulai, a man without experience 
as commander-in-chief of an army. 

By his uncertain and dilatory movements Gyulai gave the Sardinians 
time to concentrate an army of 80,000 men around the fortress of A 
andria, and lost all the advantage ol being the; first in the field. In early 
May the French army reached Italy, partly by way of the St. Bernard Pass, 
partlv by sea ; and Garibaldi, with his mountaineers, took up a position that 
would enable him to attack die right wing of the Austrians. 

Later m the month Napoleon himself appeared, his presence and the 

name he bore inspiring the soldiers with new valor, while his _. _ . . 
1 & The l-rench in 

first order of the day, in which he recalled the glorious deeds Italy and the 
which their fathers had done on those plains under his great March on 
uncle, roused them to the highest enthusiasm. While assum- 
ing the title of commander-in-chief, he left the conduct of the war to his able 
subordinates, MacMahon, Niel, Canrobert, and others. 

The Austrian general, having lost the opportunity to attack, was now 
put on the defensive, in which his incompetence was equally manifested. 



1 86 THE SECOND TRENCH EMPIRE 

Being quite, ignorant of the position of the foe, he sent Count Stadion, with 
12,000 men, on a reconnoisance. An encounter took place at Montebello 
on May 20th, in which, after a sharp engagement, Stadion was forced to 
retreat. Gyulai directed his attention to that quarter, leaving Napoleon to 
march unmolested from Alessandria to the invasion of Lombardy. Gyulai 
now, aroused by the danger of Milan, began his retreat across the Ticino, 
which he had so uselessly crossed. 

The road to Milan crossed the Ticino River and the Naviglio Grande, 

a broad and deep canal a few miles east of the river. Some distance farther 

on lies the village of Magenta, the seat of the first great battle of the war. 

Sixty years before, on those Lombard plains, Napoleon the Great had first 

lost, and then, by a happy chance, won the famous battle 

o/Blun'derv °f Marengo. The Napoleon now in command was a very 

different man from the mighty soldier of the year 1800, and 

the French escaped a disastrous rout only because the Austrians were led 

by a worse general still. Some one has said that victory conies to the army 

that makes the fewest blunders. Such seems to have been the case in the 

battle of Magenta, where military genius was the one thing wanting. 

The French pushed on, crossed the river without finding a man to dis- 
pute the passage, — other than a much-surprised customs official, —and 
reached an undefended bridge across the canal. The high road to Milan 
seemed deserted by the Austrians. But Napoleon's troops were drawn out 
in a preposterous line, straddling a river and a canal, both difficult to cross, 
and without any defensive positions to hold against an attack in force. He 
supposed that the Austrians were stretched out in a similar long line. 
This was not the case. Gyulai had all the advantages of position, and 
might have concentrated his army and crushed the advanced corps of the 
French if he had known his situation and his business. As it was, between 
ig-norance on the one hand and indecision on the other, the battle was 
fought with about equal forces on either hand. 

The first contest took place at Buffalora, a village on the canal where 
the French encountered the Austrians in force. Here a 

Buffalora and . . . , , , ,• • , L 

Magenta bloody struggle went on for hours, ending in the capture 

of the place by the Grenadiers of the Guard, who held on to 
It afterwards with stubborn courage. 

General MacMahon, in command of the advance, had his orders to 
march forward, whatever happened, to the church-tower of Magenta, and, 
in strict obedience to orders, he pushed on, leaving the grenadiers to hold 
their own as best they could at Buffalora, and heedless of the fact that the 
reserve troops of the army had not yet begun to cross the river. It was 



THE SECOND FN UNCI / EMPIRE 1S7 

the 5th oi fune, and the day was well advanced when MacMahon cam-: in 
contact with the Austrians at Magenta, and the great ol the day 

began. 

It was a battle in which the commanders on both sides, with the excep- 
tion of MacMahon, showed lack of military skill and the soldiers on both 
sides the staunchest courage. The Austrians seemed devoid of plan or 
system, and their several divisions were beaten in detail by the French. < >n 
the other hand. General Camou, in command of the second division of 
MacMahon's corps, acted as Desaix had done at the battle of 

,. ill 1 r 1 i- ii Camou's Dt-lih- 

IVlarengo, marched at the sound oi the distant cannon, but, er ate March 
unlike Desaix, he mo deliberately that it took him six 

hours to make less than five miles. He was a tactician of the old school. 
imbued with the idea that every march should be made in perfect order. 

At half-past four MacMahon, with his uniform in disorder and folio 
by a few officers of his staff , dashed ba< lurry up this del 

On the way thither he rode into a body ol Austrian sharp I 1 ■ 

tune favored him. Not dreaming of the presence ol the French general, 
they saluted him as one of their own commanders. On his way back he 
made a second narrow escape from capture by the Uhlans. 

The drums now beal the charge, and a determined attack was made by 
the French, the enemy's main column being taken between two tires. Des- 
perately resisting, it was forced back step by step upon Magenta. Into the 
town tin- columns rolled, and the fight became fierce around the church. 
High in the tower of this edifice stood the Austrian general and his 
watching the fortunes of the fray; and from this point he caught sight of 
the four regiments ol Camou, advancing as regularly as if on parade. 
They were not given the chance to fire a shot or receive a s< er as 

they were to take part in the fight. At sight of them the The French 
Austrian general ordered a retreat ,uu\ the battle was at an victory at 
end. The French owed their victory largely to General 
Mellinet and his Grenadiers of the Guard, who held their own like bull 
at Bullalora while Camou was advancing with the deliberation ol the old 
military rules. MacMahon ami Mellinet and the French had won the day. 
Victor Emmanuel and the Sardinians did not reach the ground until 
the battle was at end. For his services ^n that day of -lory for France 
MacMahon was made Marshal of France and I' ike of Magenta. 

The prize of the victory of Magenta was the possession of Lombard}-. 
Gyulai, unable to collect his scattered divisions, gave orders for a 
retreat. Milan was evacuated with precipitate haste, and the garri 
were withdrawn from all the towns, leaving them to be occupied by the 



1 88 THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 

French and Italians. On the 8th of June Napoleon and Victor Emmanuel 
rode into Milan side by side, amid the loud acclamations of the people, 
who looked upon this victory as an assurance of Italian freedom and unity. 

Meanwhile the Austrians retreated without interruption, not 
Milan and the , , . ., , , , ,... . , , 

Quadrilateral halting until they arrived at the Mincio, where they were pro- 
tected by the famous Quadrilateral, consisting of the four 
powerful fortresses of Peschiera, Mantua, Verona, and Leguano, the main- 
stay of the Austrian power in Italy. 

The French and Italians slowly pursued the retreating Austrians, and 
on the 23d of June bivouacked on both banks of the Chiese River, about 
fifteen miles west of the Mincio. The Emperor Francis Joseph had 
recalled the incapable Gyulai, and, in hopes of inspiring his soldiers with 
new spirit, himself took command. The two emperors, neither of them 
soldiers, were thus pitted against each other, and Francis Joseph, eager to 
retrieve the disaster at Magenta, resolved to quit his strong position of 
defence in the Quadrilateral and assume the offensive. 

At two o'clock in the morning of the 24th the allied French and 
Italian army resumed its march, Napoleon's orders for the day being based 
upon the reports of his reconnoitering parties and spies. These led him 
to believe that, although a strong detachment of the enemy might be 
encountered west of the Mincio, the main body of the Austrians was await- 
ing him on the eastern side of the river. But the French intelligence 
department was badly served. The Austrians had stolen a march upon 
Napoleon. Undetected by the French scouts, they had re- 

The Armies croS sed the Mincio, and by nightfall of the 23d their leading 

on the Mincio ' . & ° & 

columns were occupying the ground on which the French 

were ordered to bivouac on the evening of the 24th. The intention of the 
Austrian emperor, now commanding his army in person, had been to push 
forward rapidly and fall upon the allies before they had completed the 
passage of the river Chiese. But this scheme, like that of Napoleon, was 
based on defective information. The allies broke up from their bivouacs 
many hours before the Austrians expected them to do so, and when the 
two armies came in contact early in the morning of the 24th of June the Aus 
trians were quite as much taken by surprise as the French. 

The Austrian army, superior in numbers to its opponents, was posted 
in a half-circle between the Mincio and Chiese, with the intention of press- 
ing forward from these points upon a centre. But the line was extended 
too far, and the centre was comparatively weak and without reserves. 
Napoleon, who that morning received complete intelligence of the position 
of the Austrian army, accordingly directed his chief strength against the 



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THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 191 

enemy's centre, which rested upon a height near the village of Solferino. 
Here, on the 24th of June, after a murderous conflict, in which the French 
commanders hurled continually renewed masses against the decisive posi- 
tion, while on the other side the Austrian reinforcements failed through 
lack of unity of plan and decision of action, the heights were at length won 
by the French troops in spite of heroic resistance on the part of the Aus- 
trian soldiers; the Austrian line of battle being cut through, and the arm) 
thus divided into two separate m 1 >nd attack which Napoleon 

promptly directed against Cavriano had a similar result; for the commands 
given by the Austrian generals were confused and had no general and 
definite aim. The fate of the battle was already in a great 
measure decided, when a tremendous storm broke forth that solferino 
put an end to the combat at most points, and gave the Aus- 
trians an opportunity to retire in order. Only Benedek, who had twice 
beaten hack the Sardinians at various points, continued the struggle for 
some hours longer. On the French side Marshal Niel had pre-eminently 
distinguished himself by acuteness and bravery. It was a day of bloodshed, 
on which two great powers had measured their strength against each other 
for twelve hours. The Austrians had to lament the loss of 13,000 dead 
and wounded, and left 9,000 prisoners in the enemy's hands ; on the side of 
the French and Sardinians the number of killed and wounded was even 
greater, for the repeated attacks had been made upon well-defended heights, 
but the number of prisoners was not nearly so great. 

The victories in Italy filled the French people with the warmest 
admiration for their emperor, they thinking, in their enthusiasm, that a 
true successor of Napoleon the gnat had come to bring glory The Feeling in 
to their arms. Italy also was full of enthusiatic hope, fancying Prance and 
that the freedom ami unit)- of the Italians was at List assured. ay 

Both nations were, therefore, bitterly disappointed in learning that the war 
was at an end, and that a hasty peace had been arranged between the 
emperors, which left the hoped-for work but half achieved. 

Napoleon estimated his position better than his people. Despite his 
victories, his situation was one of danger and difficult)-. The army had 
suffered severely in its brief campaign, ami the Austrians were still in pos- 
session of the Quadrilateral, a square of powerful fortresses which he might 
seek in vain to reduce. And a threat of serious trouble had arisen in Ger- 
many. The victorious career of a new Napoleon in Italy was alarming. It 
was not easy to forget the past. The German powers, though they had 
declined to come to the aid of Austria, were armed and ready, and at any 
moment might begin a hostile movement upon the Rhine. 



i 9 2 THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 

Napoleon, wise enough to secure what he had won, without hazarding 

its loss, arranged a meeting with the Austrian emperor, whom he found 

quite as ready for peace. The terms of the truce arranged 
A Meeting of M , . . & 

the Emperors between them were that Austria should abandon Lombardy 

and Treaty lo the line of the Mincio, almost its eastern boundary, and 

of Pgicg 

that Italy should form a confederacy under the presidency of 
the pope. In the treaty subsequently made only the first of these condi- 
tions was maintained, Lombardy passing to the kinof of Sardinia. He 
received also the small states of Central Italy, whose tyrants had fled, 
ceding to Napoleon, as a reward for his assistance, the realm of Savoy and 
the city and territory of Nice. 

Napoleon had now reached the summit of his career. In the succeed- 
ing years the French were to learn that they had put their faith in a hollow 
emblem of glory, and Napoleon to lose the prestige he had gained at Ma- 
genta and Solferino. His first serious mistake was when he yielded to the 
voice of ambition, and, taking advantage of the occupation of the Ameri- 
cans in their civil war, sent an army to invade Mexico. 

The ostensible purpose of this invasion was to collect a debt which the 
Mexicans had refused to pay, and Great Britain and Spain were induced to 
take part in the expedition. But their forces were withdrawn 
of Mexico when they found that Napoleon had other purposes in view, 
and his army was left to fight its battles alone. After some 
sanguinary engagements the Mexican army was broken into a series of 
guerilla bands, incapable of facing his well-drilled troops, and Napoleon 
proceeded to reorganize Mexico as an empire, placing the Archduke Maxi- 
milian of Austria on the throne. 

All went well while the people of the United States were fighting for 
their national union, but when their war was over the ambitious French em- 
peror was soon taught that he had committed a serious error. He was given 
plainly to understand that the French troops could only be kept in Mexico 
at the cost of a war with the United States, and he found it convenient to 
withdraw them early in 1867. They had no sooner gone than the Mexicans 
were in arms against Maximilian, and his rash determination to remain 
quickly led to his capture and execution as a usurper. 

The inaction of Napoleon during the wars which Prussia fought with 

Denmark and Austria gave further blows to his prestige in France, and the 

Napoleon Loses opposition to his policy of personal government grew so 

Prestige in strong that he felt himself obliged to submit his policy to a 

vote of the people. He was sustained by a large majority. 

Yet he perceived that his power was sinking. He was obliged to loosen the 



THE SEl "( >.\/ ) FRENC 7/ EMPIRE 1 93 

n-iiis of government at home, though knowing that the yielding of incre; 
liberty to the people would weaken his own Finally, finding him- 

self failing in health, confidence, and reputation, he yielded to advisers who 
tolt! him that the only hope for his dynasty lay in a ful war, and un- 

dertook the war of 1S70 against Prus 

The origin and events of this war will be considered in a subsequent 
chapter. It will suffice to say here that its events proved Napoleon's in- 
capacity as a military emperor, he being utterly deceived in the condition of 
the French army and unwarrantably ignorant of that oi the Germans. He 
believed that the army of France was in the highest condition of organiza- 
tion and completely supplied, when the very contrary was the case; and was 
similarly deceived concerning the state of the military force of Pru 
The result was that which might have been expected. 1 ' 1 rraan tn 
admirably organized and excellently commani French in a 

i of engagments that fairly took the breath of the world by their 
rapidity and completeness, ending in the rapture ,,1 Napoleon and his army. 
As a consequence the second empire of France came to an end and 
Napoleon lost his throne. He died two years afterwards an exile in Eng- 
land, that place of shelter for French royal refugees. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Garibaldi and the Unification of Italy. 

FROM the time of the fall of the Roman Empire until late in the nine- 
teenth century, a period of some fourteen hundred years, Italy re- 
mained disunited, divided up between a series of states, small and 
large, hostile and peaceful, while its territory was made the battlefield of the 
surrounding powers, the helpless prey of Germany, France, and Spain. Even 
the strong hand of Napoleon failed to bring it unity, and after his 
Unit fall its condition was worse than before, for Austria held most 

of the north and exerted a controlling power over the remainder 
of the peninsula, so that the fair form of liberty fled in dismay from its shores. 
But the work of Napoleon had inspired the patriots of Italy with a new 
sentiment, that of union. Before the Napoleonic era the thought of a 
united Italy scarcely existed, and patriotism meant adherence to Sardinia, 
Naples, or some other of the many kingdoms and duchies. After that era 
union became the watchword of the revolutionists, who felt that the only 
hope of giving Italy a position of dignity and honor among the nations 
Italian Unity ^ a Y m making it one country under one ruler. The history 
and Its of the nineteenth century in Italy is the record of the at- 

tempt to reach this end, and its successful accomplishment. 
And on that record the names of two men most prominently appear, 
Mazzini, the indefatigable conspirator, and Garibaldi, the valorous fighter; 
to whose names should be added that of the eminent statesmen, Count 
Cavour, and that of the man who reaped the benefit of their patriotic 
labors, Victor Emmanuel, the first king of united Italy. 

The basis of the revolutionary movements in Italy was the secret 
^political association known as the Carbonari, formed early in the nineteenth 
century and including members of all classes in its ranks. In 1814 this 
powerful society projected a revolution in Naples, and in 1820 it was 
Th Carbonari stron g enough to invade Naples with an army and force from 
the king an oath to observe the new constitution which it had 
prepared. The revolution was put down in the following year by the Aus- 
trians, acting as the agents of the " Holy Alliance,"- — the compact of 
Austria, Prussia, and Russia. 
(194) 



GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION or ITALY 195 

An ordinance was passed, condemning any one who should attend a 
meeting of the Carbonari to capital punishment. Hut the society contin 
to exist, despite this severe enactment, and lias been at the basis of many 
of the outbreaks that have taken place in Italy since [820. Mazzini, Gari- 
baldi, am! all the leading patriots were members of this powerful organiza- 
tion, which was daring enough to condemn Napoleon III. to death, and 
almost to succeed in his assassination, for his failure to live up to his obliga- 
tions as a member of the society. 

Giuseppe Mazzini, a native of Genoa, became a member of the Car- 
bonari in [830. His activity in revolutionary movements caused him soon 
after to be proscribed, and in 1831 he sought Marseilles, where lie organized 
a new political soci< ty called "Young Italy," whose watchword 

. , . ' , ,, ill- • • 1 1 Mazzini the 

was "God and the People, and whose basic principle was the Patriot 

union of the several states and kingdoms into one nation, as 
the only true foundation of Italian liberty. This purpose he avowed in hi> 
writings and pursued through exile and adversity with inflexible constancy, anc* 
it is largely due to the work of this earnest patriot that Italy to-day is a single 
kingdom instead of a medley of separate states. Only in one particular did 
he fail. His persistent purpose was to establish a republic, not a monarchy. 
While Mazzini was thus working with his pen, his compatriot, Giuseppe 
Garibaldi, was working as earnestly with his sword. This 

,. ... . ^ r ... . . , ., , Early Career of 

daring soldier, a native: oi Nice and reared to a life on the Garibaldi 
sea, was banished as a revolutionist in 1834, and the succeed- 
ing fourteen years of his life were largely spent in South America, in whose 
wars he played a leading part. 

The revolution of 184S opened Italy to these two patriots, and they 
hastened to return, Garibaldi to offer his services to Charles Albert of 
Sardinia, by whom, however, he was treated with coldness and distrust. 
Mazzini, after founding the Roman republic in 1 illed" upon Garibaldi 

to come to its di and the latter displayed the greatest heroism in the 

contest against the Neapolitan and French invaders. He escaped from 
Rome on its capture by the French, and, after many desperate conflicts and 
adventures with the Austrians, was again driven into exile, and in 1850 became 
a resident of New York. For some time he worked in a manufactory of 
candles on Staten Island, and afterwards m \ ages on the Pacific. 

The war of 1859 opened a new ami promising channel for the devo- 
tion of Garibaldi to his n 1 nd. being appointed major- 
general and commissioned to raise a volunteer corps, he ♦ ♦il"'^* 
organized the hardy body of mountaineers called the " 1 luni< 
of the Alps," and with them performed prodigies of valor on the plains 
11 



i 9 6 GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 

of Lombardy, winning victories over the Austrians at Varese, Como 
and other places. In his ranks was his fellow-patriot Mazzini. 

The success of the French and Sardinians in Lombardy during this 
war stirred Italy to its centre. The grand duke of Tuscany fled to Aus- 
tria. The duchess of Parma sought refuge in Switzerland. The duke 
of Modena found shelter in the Austrian camp. Everywhere the brood of 
tyrants took to flight. Bologna threw off its allegiance to the pope, and 
proclaimed the king of Sardinia dictator. Several other towns in the 
states of the Church did the same. In the terms of the truce between 
Louis Napoleon and Francis Joseph the rulers of these realms were to 
resume their reigns if the people would permit. But the people would not 
permit, and they were all annexed to Sardinia, which country was greatly 
expanded as a result of the war. 

It will not suffice to give all the credit for these revolutionary move- 
ments to Mazzini, the organizer, Garibaldi, the soldier, and the ambitious 
monarchs of France and Sardinia. More important than king and emperor 
was the eminent statesman, Count Cavour, prime minister of Sardinia from 
1852. It is to this able man that the honor of the unification of Italy most 
Count Cavour fully belongs, though he did not live to see it. He sent a 
the Brain of Sardinian army to the assistance of France and England in 

y the Crimea in 1855, and by this act gave his state a standing 

among the powers of Europe. He secured liberty of the press and favored 
toleration in religion and freedom of trade. He rebelled against the 
dominion of the papacy, and devoted his abilities to the liberation and 
unity of Italy, undismayed by the angry fulminations from the Vatican. 
The war of 1859 was his work, and he had the satisfaction of seeing 
Sardinia increased by the addition of Lombardy, Tuscany, Parma and 
Modena. A great step had been taken in the work to which he had 
devoted his life. 

The next step in the great work was taken by Garibaldi, who now 
struck at the powerful kingdom of Naples and Sicily in the south. It 
Garibaldi's in. seemed a difficult task. Francis II., the son and successor of 
vasion of the infamous " Kine Bomba," had a well-organized armv of 

150,000 men. But his father's tyranny had filled the land 
with secret societies, and fortunately at this time the Swiss mercenaries 
were recalled home, leaving to Francis only his unsafe native troops. This 
was the critical interval which Mazzini and Garibaldi chose for their work. 

At the beginning of April, 1S60, the signal was given by separate 
insurrections in Messina and Palermo. These were easily suppressed by 
the troops in garrison ; but though both cities were declared in a state of 



GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 197 

gave occasion for demonstrations by winch the revolutionary 

chiefs excited the public mind. On the 6th of May, Garibaldi started 

two steamers from Genoa with about a thousand Italian volunteers, and on 

the 11th landed near Marsala, on the west coast of Sicily. lie procd 

to the mountains, and near Salemi gathered round him the scattered bands 

of the free corps. By the 14th his army had increased to pooo men. lie 

now issued a proclamation, in which he took upon himself the dictatorship 

of Sicily, in the name of Victor Emmanuel, king of Italy. After waging 

various successful combats under the most difficult circumstances, Garibaldi 

advanced upon the capital, announcing his arrival by beacon-fires kindled 

at night. On the 27th he was in front of the Porta Termina of Palermo, 

and at once gave the signal for the attack. The people rose 

in mass, and assisted the operations of the besiegers by Ca P™ reo 

1 & ' Palermo 

barricade-fighting in the streets. In a few hours half the 
town was in Garibaldi's hands. But now General I. an/a. whom the young 
king had dispatched with strong reinforcements to Sicily, furiously bom- 
barded the insurgent city, so that Palermo was reduced almost to a heap of 
ruins. At this juncture, by the intervention of an English admiral, an armistice 
oncluded, which led to the departure of the Neapolitan troops and war 
vessels and the surrender of the town to Garibaldi, who thus, with a band 
of 5,000 badly armed followers, had gained a signal advantage over a 
regular army of 25,000 men. This event had tremendous consequen 
for it showed the utter hollowness of the Neapolitan government, while 
Garibaldi's fame was everywhere spread abroad. The glowing fancy of 
the Italians beheld in him the national hero before whom every enemy 
would bite the dust. This idea seemed to extend even to the Neapolitan 
court itself, where all was doubt, confusion and dismay. The king hastily 
summoned a liberal ministry, and offered to restore the constitution of 
but the general verdict was, "too late," and his proclamation fell tlat 
on a pi ople who had no trust in Bourbon faith. 

The arrival of Garibaldi in Naples was enough to set in blaze all the 
combustible materials in that state. His appearance then- 
was not long delayed. Six weeks after the surrender of Taken 
Palermo he marched against Messina. On the 21st of 
July the fortress of Melazzo was 1, and a week afterwards all 

Messina except the citadel was given up. 

Europe was astounded at the remarkable; success of Garibaldi's handful 
of men. On the mainland his good fortune was still more astonishing. He 
had hardly landed — which he. did almost in the face of the Neapolitan fleet 
— than Reggio was surrendered ami its garrison withdrew. His progress 



ig8 GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 

through the south of the kingdom was like a triumphal procession. At the 
Flight of Francis enc ^ °^ August he was at Cosenza ; on the 5th of September 
11. and Con» at Eboli, near Salerno. No resistance appeared. His very 
apes name seemed to work like magic on the population. The 
capital had been declared in a state of siege, and on September 6th the 
king took flight, retiring, with the 4,000 men still faithful to him, behind 
the Volturno. The next day Garibaldi, with a few followers, entered 
Naples, whose populace received him with frantic shouts of welcome. 

The remarkable achievements of Garibaldi filled all Italy with over- 
mastering excitement. He had declared that he would proclaim the 
kingdom of Italy from the heart of its capital city, and nothing less than 
this would content the people. The position of the pope had become 
serious. He refused to grant the reforms suggested by the 
*f th"^ French emperor, and threatened with excommunication any one 

who should meddle with the domain of the Church. Money 
was collected from faithful Catholics throughout the world, a summons 
was issued calling for recruits to the holy army of the pope, and the exiled 
French General Lamoriciere was given the chief command of the troops, 
composed of men who had flocked to Rome from many nations. It was 
hoped that the name of the celebrated French leader would have a favor- 
able influence on the troops of the French garrison of Rome. 

The settlement of the perilous situation seemed to rest with Louis 
Napoleon. If he had let Garibaldi have his way the latter would, no doubt, 
have quickly ended the temporal sovereignity of the pope and made Rome 
the capital of Italy. But Napoleon seems to have arranged with Cavour to 
leave the king of Sardinia free to take possession of Naples, Umbria and 
the other provinces, provided that Rome and the "patrimony of Si. Peter" 
were left intact. 

At the beginning of September two Sardinian army corps, under Fanti 
and Cialdini, marched to the borders of the states of the church. Lamor- 
iciere advanced against Cialdini with his motley troops, but 
uei in Naples" was quickly defeated, and on the following day was besieged 
in the fortess of Ancona. On the 29th he and the garrison 
surrendered as prisoners of war. On the 9th of October Victor Emmanuel 
arrived and took command. There was no longer a papal army to oppose 
him, and the march southward proceeded without a check. 

The object of the king in assuming the chief command was to com- 
plete the conquest of the kingdom of Naples, in conjunction with Garibaldi. 
For though Garibaldi had entered the capital in triumph, the progress on 
the line of the Volturno had been slow ; and the expectation that the 





J 




THE ZOUAVES CHARGING THE BARRICADES AT MENTANA 

Id 1867 Garibaldi made a final effort to take the city of Rome, it being one of the cherished objects of his life to make it the capita' 

of United Italy. He would have succeeded in capturing the famous city had not the French come to the aid of the papal 

troops. The allied forces were too strong, and he was defeated at Mentana. The itlu-tration shows the 

French Zouaves in a dashing bayo"et charge against the barricades of the revolutionists 



GA RIBALD/ AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 201 

Neapolitan army would go over to the invaders in a mass had not been 
realized. The great majority of the troops remained faithful to the flag, so 
that Garibaldi, although his irregular bauds amounted to more than 25,000 
men, could not hope to drive away King Francis, or to take the fortre 
of Capua and Gaeta, without the help ol Sardinia. Against the diplomatic 
statesman Cavour, who fostered no illusions, and saw the conditions of 
affairs in its true light, the simple, honest Garibaldi cherished 1 aver- 

sion. He could never forgive Cavour for having given up Nice, Garibaldi's 
native town, to the French. On the other hand, he felt at- 
tracted toward the king - , who in his opinion seemed to be the I 7. ba „ dl ie ds 

° r His Conquests 

man raised up by Providence for the' liberation of Italy. 
Accordingly, when Victor Emmanuel entered Sessa, at the head of his 
army, Garibaldi was easily induced to place his dictatorial power in the 
hands of the king, to whom he left the completion of the work ol the union 
of Italy. After greeting Victor Emmanuel with the title of King of Italy, 
and giving the required resignation of his power, with the words, "Sire, I 
obey," he entered Naples, riding beside the king; and then, alter recom- 
mending his companions in arms to his majesty's special favor, he retired 
to his home on the island of Caprera, refusing to receive a reward, in any 
shape or form, for his services to tin state and its hi 

The progress of the Sardinian army compelled Francis to give up the 
line of the Volturno, and he eventually took refuge, with his best troops, in 
the fortress of Gaeta. On the maintenance of this fortress hung the fate 
of the kingdom of Naples. Its defence is the only bright 
point in the career of the- feeble Francis, whose cou rage was a n ture ° 

... t 1 Ciaeta 

aroused by the heroic resolution ot his young wile, the Bava- 
rian Princess Mary. For three months the defence continued. Put no 
European power came 10 the aid of the king, disease appeared with scarcity 
of food and of munitions of war, and the garrison was at length forced to 
capitulate. The fall of Gaeta was practically the completion of the great 
work of the unification of Italy. < >nly Rome and Venice remained to be 
added to the united kingdom. On February 1S, 1861, Victor Emmanuel 

nbled at Turin the deputies of all the states that acknowl- victor rmman- 
edged his supremacy, and in their presence assumed the title uelMade 
^i King of Italy, which he was the first to bear. In four Kingof Italy 
months afterwards Count Cavour, to whom this great work was largely 
due, died. He had lived long enough to see the purpose of his life 
practically accomplished. 

Great as had been the change which two years had made, the patrio 
of Italy were not satislied. " PYee from the Alps to the Adriatic !" was their 



202 GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 

cry ; " Rome and Venice !" became the watchword of the revolutionists. 
Mazzini, who had sought to found a republic, was far from content, and the 
agitation went on. Garibaldi was drawn into it, and made bitter complaint 
of the treatment his followers had received. In 1862, disheartened at the 
inaction of the king, he determined to undertake against Rome an expedi- 
tion like that which he had led against Naples two years before. 

In June he sailed from Genoa and landed at Palermo, where he was 

Garibaldi's Ex- quickly joined hy an enthusiastic party of volunteers. They 

pedition supposed that the government secretly favored their design, 

Against Rome but tbe k - bad nQ jdea Q r fighting against the French 

troops in Rome and arousing international complications, and he energetic- 
ally warned all Italians against taking part in revolutionary enterprises. 

But Garibaldi persisted in his design. When his way was barred by 
the garrison of Messina he turned aside to Catania, where he embarked 
with 2,000 volunteers, declaring he would enter Rome as a victor, or perish 
beneath its walls. He landed at Melito on the 24th of August, and threw 
himself at once, with his followers, into the Calabrian mountains. But his 
enterprise was quickly and disastrously ended. General Cialdini despatched 
a division of the regular army, under Colonel Pallavicino, against the volun- 
teer bands. At Aspromonte, on the 28th of August, the two forces came 
into collision. A chance shot was followed by several volleys from the 
regulars. Garibaldi forbade his men to return the fire of their fellow- 
subjects of the Italian kingdom. He was wounded, and taken 
c"a rera ° prisoner with his followers, a few of whom had been slain 
in the short combat. A government steamer carried the 
wounded chief to Varignano, where he was held in a sort of honorable im- 
prisonment, and was compelled to undergo a tedious and painful operation 
for the healing of his wound. He had at least the consolation that all 
Europe looked with sympathy and interest upon the unfortunate hero ; and 
a general sense of relief was felt when, restored to health, he was set free, 
and allowed to return to his rocky island of Caprera. 

Victor Emmanuel was seeking to accomplish his end by safer means. 
The French garrison of Rome was the obstacle in his way, and this was 
finally removed through a treaty with Louis Napoleon in September, 1864, 
Florence the tne emperor agreeing to withdraw his troops during the succeed- 
Capitalof ing two years, in which the pope was to raise an army laro-e 

enough to defend his dominions. Florence was to replace Turin 
as the capital of Italy. This arrangement created such disturbances in Turin 
that the king was forced to leave that city hastily for lv's new capital. In 
December, 1866, the last of the French troops departed from Rome, in 



GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 203 

despite of the efforts of the pope to retain them. By their withdrawal 
Italy was freed from the presence of foreign soldiers for the first time 
probably in a thousand years. 

In 1S66 came an event which reacted favorably for Italy, though her 
part in it was the reverse of triumphant. This was the war between Prussia 
and Austria. Italy was in alliance with Prussia, and Victor 
Emmanuel hastened to lead an army across the Mincio to lh "^ aro ' 
the invasion of Venetia, the last Austrian province in Italy. 
Garibaldi at the same time was to invade the Tyrol with his volunl 
The enterprise ended in disaster. The Austrian troops, under the Arch- 
duke Albert, encountered the Italians at Custozza and gained a brilliant 
victory, despite the much greater numbers of the Italians. 

Fortunately for Italy, the Austrians had been unsuccessful in the north, 
and the emperor, with the hope of gaining the alliance of France and 
breaking the compact between Italy and Prussia, decided to cede Venetia to 
Louis Napoleon, llis purpose failed. All Napoleon did in response was 
to act as a peacemaker, while the Italian king refused to recede from his 
alliance. Though the Austrians were retreating from a country which no 
longer belonged to them, the invasion of Venetia l>v the Italians continued, 
and several conflicts with the Austrian army took place. 

But much the most memorable event of this brief war occurred on the 
s.-a, in the most striking contest of ironclad ships between the American 
civil war and the Japan-China contest. Both countries concerned had fleets 
on the Adriatic. Italy was the strongest in naval vessels, possessing ten 
clads and a considerable number of wooden ships. Austri 
ironclad leet was seven in number, plated with thin iron and theAdriatic 
with no very heavy guns. In addition there was a numb 
of wooden vessels and gunboats. But in command of this fleet was an 
admiral in whose blood was the iron which was lacking on his ships, Teget- 
hoff, the Dewey of the Adriatic. Inferior as his ships were, his men 
were thoroughly drilled in the use; of the guns and the evolutions of the 
ships, and when he sailed it was with the one thought of victory. 

Persano, the Italian admiral, as if despising his adversary, engaged in 
siege of the fortified island of Lissa, near the Dalmatian coast, leaving the 
Austrians to do what they phased. What they pleased was to attack him 
with a fury such as has been rarely seen. Early on July 20, 1866, when the 
Italians were preparing for a combined assault of the island by land and sea, 
their movement was checked by the signal displayed on a scouting frigate: 
" Suspiciousdooking ships are in sight." Soon afterwards the Austrian fleet 
appeared, the ironclads leading, the wooden ships in the rear. 



204 GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 

The battle that followed has had no parallel before or since. The 
whole Austrian fleet was converted into rams. Tegethoff gave one final 
order to his captains: "Close with the enemy and ram everything grey." 
Grey was the color of the Italian ships. The Austrian were painted black, 
so as to prevent any danger of error. 

Fire was opened at two miles distance, the balls being wasted in the 
waters between the fleets, " Full steam ahead," signalled Tegethoff. On 
came the fleets, firing steadily, the balls now beginning to tell. " Ironclads 
will ram and sink the enemy," signalled Tegethoff. It was the last order he 
gave until the battle was won. 

Soon the two lines of ironclads closed amid thick clouds of smoke. 
Tegethoff, in his flagship, the Ferdinand Max, twiced rammed a grey iron- 
clad without effect. Then, out of the smoke, loomed up the tall masts of 
The sinking ^ e ^ e d? Italia, Persano's flagship in the beginning of the 
of the "Re fray. Against this vessel the Ferdinand Max rushed at full 
speed, and struck her fairly amidships. Her sides of iron 
were crushed in by the powerful blow, her tall masts toppled over, and 
down beneath the waves sank the great ship with her crew of 600 men. 
The next minute another Italian ship came rushing upon the Austrian, and 
was only avoided by a quick turn of the helm. 

One other great disaster occurred to the Italians. The Palestro was 
set on fire, and the pumps were put actively to work to drown the magazine. 

The crew thought the work had been successfully performed, 
The "Palestro" 
is Blown Up an d tnat they were getting the fire under control, when there sud- 
denly came a terrible burst of flame attended by a roar that 
drowned all the din of the battle. It was the death knell of 400 men, for 
the Palestro had blown up with all on board. 

The great ironclad turret ship and ram of the Italian fleet, the Affonda- 
tore, to which Admiral Persano had shifted his flag, far the most powerful 
vessel in the Adriatic, kept outside of the battle-line, and was of little ser- 
vice in the fray. It was apparently afraid to encounter Tegethoff's terrible 
rams. The battle ended with the Austrian fleet, wooden vessels and all, pass- 
ing practically unharmed through the Italian lines into the harbor of Lissa, 
leaving death and destruction in their rear. Tegethoff was the one Aus- 
trian who came out of that war with fame. Persano on his return home 
was put on trial for cowardice and incompetence. He was con- 
to Italy victed of the latter and dismissed from the navy in disgrace. 

But Italy, though defeated by land and sea, gained a 
valuable prize from the war, for Napoleon ceded Venetia to the Italian 
king, and soon afterwards Victor Emmanuel entered Venice in triumph. 



GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 205 

the solemn act of hon ! in th< I St. 

Marks. Thus was completed I ond act in the unification of Italy. 

The national party, with Garibaldi at its head, still aimed at the posses- 
sion of Rome, as the historic capital ol the peninsula. In [867 he made a 
second attempt to rapture Rome, but the papal army, stret d with a 

a new French auxiliary force, defeated his badly armed volunteers, and he 
was taken prisoner for a time, after which he was sent back 

to Caprera. This led to the French army of occupation being returned to 
Civita Vecchia, where it was kept for several years. 

The final act came as a consequence of the Franco-German war of 
1870, which rendered necessary the withdrawal of the French troops from 
Italy. The pope was requested to make a peaceful abdica- Rome Becomes 
tion. As he refused this, the States of the Church were occu- the Capital 
pied up to the walls of the capital, and a three hours' cannon- ° y 
ade of the citv sufficed to bring the long strife to an end. Rome became 
the capital of Italy, and the whole peninsula, for the first time since the fall 
of the ancient Roman empire, was concentrated into a single nation, under 
one king. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Bismarck and the New Empire of Germany. 

WI [AT was for many centuries known as " Tin- I loly Roman Empire 
of the German Nation " was a portion of the great imperial do- 
main of Charlemagne, divided between his sons on his death in 
814. It became an elective monarchy in 911, and from the reign of Otho 
the Great was confined to Germany, which assumed the title abi en. 

This great empire survived until 1804, when the imperial title, then held by 
Francis I. of Austria, was given up, and Francis styled him- The Empires of 
self Emperor of Austria. It is an interesting coincidence that Germany and 
tliis empire (eased to exist in the same year that Napoleon, rai 
who in a large measure restored the empire of Charlemagne, assumed the 
imperial crown oi France. The- restoration of the Empire of Germany, 
though not in its old form, was left to Prussia, after the final overthrow of 
the Napoleonic imperial dynasty in 1871. 

Prussia, originally an unimportant member of the German confedera- 
tion, rose to power as Austria declined, its progress upward being remark- 
ably rapid. Frederick William, the ''Great Elector" of Brandenburg, 
united the then minor province of Prussia to his dominions, and at his death 
in t688 left it a strong army and a large treasure. His son, xheRapid 
Frederick I., was the first to bear the title of King of Prussia. Qrowthof 
Frederick the Great, who became king in 1740, had under him rU! 
a series of disjointed provinces and a population of less than 2,500,000. His 
genius made Prussia a great power, which grew until, in 1805, it had a popu- 
lation of 9,640,000 and a territory of nearly 6.000 square miles. 

We have seen the part this kingdom played in the Napoleonic- wars. 
Dismembered by Napoleon and reduced to a mere fragment, it regained 
old importance by the Treaty of Vienna The great career of this kingdom 
began with the accession, in 1862, of King William I., and the appointment, 
in .the same year, of Count Otto von Bismarck as Minister of the King's 
House anil of Foreign Allah's. It was not Kiner William, but Count Bis- 
marck, who raised Prussia to the exalted position it has since assumed. 

Bismarck began his career by an effort to the old despotism, 

setting aside acts of the legislature with the boldness of an autocrat, and 

(207) 



2o8 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

seeking to make the king supreme over the representatives of the people. 

R . He disdained the protest of the Chamber of Deputies in con- 

Despotic Acts eluding a secret treaty with Russia. He made laws and de 
and Warlike creed budget estimates without the concurrence of the Cham- 

Aorsrrcssion s 

bers. And while thus busily engaged at home in altercations 
with the Prussian Parliament, he was as actively occupied with foreign 
affairs. 

In 1864 Austria reluctantly took part with Prussia in the occupation of 
the duchy of Schleswig-Holstein, claimed by Denmark. A war with Den- 
mark followed, which ultimately resulted in the annexation to Prussia of 
the disputed territory. In this movement Bismarck was carrying out a pro- 
ject which he had long entertained, that of making Prussia the leading power 
in Germany. A. second step in this policy was taken in 1866, when the troops 
of Prussia occupied Hanover and Saxony. This act of aggression led to a 
war, in which Austria, alarmed at the ambitious movements of Prussia, came 
to the aid of the threatened states. 

Bismarck was quite ready. He had strengthened Prussia by an alliance 
with Italy, and launched the Prussian army against that of Austria with a 
rapidity that overthrew the power of the allies in a remarkably brief and 
most brilliant campaign. At the decisive battle of Sadowa fought July 3, 
1866, King William commanded the Prussian army and Field-marshal Bene- 
dek the Austrian. But back of the Prussian king was General Von Moltke 
one of the most brilliant strategists of modern times, to whose skillful com- 
binations, and distinguished services in organizing the army of Prussia, that 
state owed its rapid series of successes in war. 

At Sadowa the newly-invented needle-gun played an effective part in 
bringing victory to the Prussian arms. The battle continued actively from 
7.30 a.m. to 2.30 p.m., at which hour the Prussians carried the centre of the 
Austria Over= Austrian position. Yet, despite this, the advantage remained 
thrown at with the Austrians until 3.30, at which hour the Crown Prince 
Frederick drove their left flank from the village of Lipa. An 
hour more sufficed to complete the defeat of the Austrians, but it was 9 p.m.- 
before the fighting ceased. In addition to their losses on the field, 15,000 
of the Austrians were made prisoners and their cause was lost beyond possi- 
bility of recovery. 

There seemed nothine to hinder Bismarck from overthrowing and dis- 
membering the Austrian empire, as Napoleon had done more than once, but 
there is reason to believe that the dread of France coming to the aid of the 
defeated realm made him stop short in his career of victory. Napoleon III. 
boasted to the French Chambers that he had stayed the conqueror at the 











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BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 211 

gates of Vienna However that be, a treaty oi peace w ied, in which 

Austria consented to withdraw from the German Confederation. Bismarck 
had gained one great point in his plans, in removing a formidable rival from 
his path. The way was cleared for making Prussia the supreme power in 
t Germany. The German allies of Austria suffered severely for their assist 
to that power. Saxony kept its king, but fell under Prussian control; and 
Hanover, Hess< ' '. Nassau, and the free city of Frankfurt-on-the-Main 

were absorbed by Prussia. 

The State-, ii| South Germany had taken part on the side of Austria 
in the war. and continued the struggle aft • ■ had been made between 

the main contestants. The result was the only one that could have I 
expected under the circumstances. Though the Bavarians and Wurtem- 
bergers showed great bravery in the several conflicts, the south German 
Prussians were steadily successful, and the South German states in the 
army was finally obliged to retire beyond the Main, while NNar 
Wiirzburg was captured by the Prussians. In thi 1 truce was effected 

which ultimately led to a treaty o( peace. Wurtemberg, Bavaria, and Baden 
were each required to pay a war indemnity, and a secret measure of the 
treaty was an offensive and defensive alliance with Prussia for common ac- 
tion in case of a foreign war. 

Mention was made in the last chapter of the long disunion of Italy, its 
division into a number of separate and frequently hostile slates from the 
fall of the Roman Empire until its final unification in 1X70. A similar con- 
dition had for ages existed in Germany. The so-called Ccr- 
man Empire of the mediaeval period was little more than a Germany 
league of separate states, each with its own monarch and dis- 
tinct government. And the authority of the emperor d d with time 
until it became but a shatlow. It vanished in 1 S04, leaving Germany com- 
posed of several hundred independent states, small and lar. 

Several efiorts were made in the succeeding years to restore the bond 
of union between these states. Under the infl ol Napoleon they were 

organized into South German and North German Confedi and the 

i of his interference with their internal affairs was such that thej 
came greatly reduced in number, many of the minor states being swallowed 
up by their more powerful neighbors. 

The sub 11 attempts at union proved weak ami ineffective. The 

Bund, or bond <>f connection between these states, formedafter 
the Napoleonic period, was of the most shadowy character, union 
its congress being destitute of power or authority. The 
National Assembly, convened at Frankfurt after the revolution of 1848, 



212 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

with the Archduke John of Austria as administrator of the empire, 
proved equally powerless. It made a vigorous effort to enforce its author- 
ity, but without avail ; Prussia refused to be bound by its decisions ; and the 
attitude of opposition assumed by this powerful state soon brought the new 
attempt at union to an end. 

In 1886 the war between the two great powers of Germany, in which 
most of the smaller powers were concerned, led to more decided measures, 
in the absorption by Prussia of the states above named, the formation of a 
North German League among; the remaining' states of the north, and the 
offensive and defensive alliance with Prussia of the South German states. 
By the treaty of peace with Austria, that power was excluded from the Ger- 
man League, and Prussia remained the dominant power in Germany. A 
constitution for the League was adopted in 1867, providing for a Diet, or 
legislative council of the League, elected by the direct votes of the people, 
and an army, which was to be under the command of the Prussian king and 
subject to the military laws of Prussia. Each state in the League bound 
itself to supply a specified sum for the support of the army. 

Here was a union with a backbone — an army and a budget — and 
Bismarck had done more in the five years of his ministry in forming an 
united Germany than his predecessors had done in fifty years. 
Unrty * But the idea of union and alliance between kindred states was 

then widely in the air. Such a union had been practically 
completed in Italy, and Hungary in 1867 regained her ancient rights, which 
had been taken from her in 1849, being given a separate government, with 
Francis Joseph, the emperor of Austria, as its king. It was natural that 
the common blood of the Germans should lead them to a political confed- 
eration, and equally natural that Prussia, which so overshadowed the smaller 
states in strength, should be the leading element in the alliance. 

The great increase in the power and importance of Prussia, as an out- 
come of the war with Austria, was viewed with jealousy in Fiance. The 
Emperor Napoleon sought, by a secret treaty with Holland, to obtain 
possession of the state of Luxemburg, for which a sum of money was to be 
paid. This negotiation became known and was defeated by Bismarck, the 
King of Holland shrinking from the peril of war and the publicity of a 
disgraceful transaction. But the interference of Prussia with this underhand 
scheme added to the irritation of France. 

The Position And thus time passed on until the eventful year 1870. 

of Louis By that year Prussia had completed its work among the 

Napoleon North German states and was ready for the issue of hostilities, 

if this should be necessary. On the other hand, Napoleon, who had found 



BISMARCK AND Tin-: NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 213 

his pi in France from various causes decreasing, felt obliged in [870 

to deparl from his policy of personal rule and give that country a constitu- 
tional government. This proposal was submitted to a vote oi the people and 
sustained by an immense majority. I le also took occasion to state that 
"peace was never more assured than at the present tim This assura 

satisfaction to the world, ye) it was a false one, for war w. bably 

at that moment assured. 

alarming signs in France. The opposition to Napoleonism 

steadily gaining power. A had harvest was threatened— a serious 

source of discontent. The Parliament was discussing the reversal of the 

sentence of banishment against the Orleans family. These indications of a 

change in public sentiment appeared to call for some act that would aid in 

iring the popularity of the emperor. And of all the acts that could be 

1 national war seemed the most promising. If the Rhine frontier, 

which every French regarded as the natural boundary of the empire, could 

he ri I liv the arms of the nation, discontent and opposition would 

vanish, the name of Napoleon would win hack its old prestige, and the 

reign of Bonapartism would he firmly established. 

Acts speak louder than words, anil the acts of Napoleon were not in 
accord with his assurances of peace. Extensive military preparations 
m, and the forces of the empire were strengthened by 

■ , , , ., ii- Preparations 

land and sea, while great trust was placed in a new weapon, for Hostilities 

of murderous power-, called the mitrailleuse, the predecessor 

of the machine gun, and capable of discharging twenty-five halls at once 

( In the other hand, there were abundant indications oi discontent in 
( '.ermany, where a variety of parties inveighed against the rapacious polii 
Prussia, and where Bismarckhad sown a deep crop of hate. It was believed 
in France that the minor states would not support Prussia in a war. In 
Austria the defeat in [866 rankled, and hostilities against Prussia on the 
part of France seemed certain to win sympathy and support in that com- 
posite empire. Colonel Stoffel, the French military envoy at Berlin, 
declared that Prussia would he found abundantly prepared for a struggle : 
but his warnings went unheeded in the French Cabinet, and the warlike 
preparations continued. 

Napoleon did not have to go far tor an excuse tor the war upon which 

he was resolved. One was prepared for him in that potent 

. . . . , ... The ke\olution 

source of trouble, the succession to the throne ol Spam. In | n Spain 

that country there had for years been no end of trouble, 

revolts. Carlist risings, wars and rumors of wars. The government of < |ueen 

11a, with its endless intrigues plots, and alternation of despotism 



2i 4 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

and anarchy, and the pronounced immorality of the queen, had become so 
distasteful to the people that finally, after several years of revolts and armed 
risings, she was driven from her throne by a revolution, and for a time Spain 
was without a monarchy and ruled on republican principles. 

But this arrangement did not prove satisfactory. The party in opposition 
looked around for a king- and negotiations began with a distant relative of 
the Prussian royal family, Leopold of Hohenzollern. Prince Leopold ac-j 
cepted the offer, and informed the king of Prussia of his decision. 

The news of this event caused great excitement in Paris, and the Prus- 

sian government was advised of the painful feeling to which the incident 

had given rise. The answer from Berlin that the Prussian 
The Spanish . . . , 1 1 ^ n ■ 

Succession government had no concern in the matter, and that rnnce 

Leopold was free to act on his own account, did not allay the 

excitement. The demand for war grew violent and clamorous, the voices 

of the feeble opposition in the Chambers were drowned, and the journalists 

and war partisans were confident of a short and glorious campaign and a 

triumphant march to Berlin. 

The hostile feeling was reduced when King William of Prussia, though 

he declined to prohibit Prince Leopold from accepting the crown, expressed 

his concurrence with the decision of the prince when he withdrew his accept- 

., , _ ance of the dangerous offer. This decision was regarded as 

Napoleon s De= _ ° a 

mand and sufficient, even in Paris ; but it did not seem to be so in the 

William's palace, where an excuse for a declaration of war was ardently 
Refusal 

desired. The emperor's hostile purpose was enhanced by the 

influence of the empress, and it was finally declared that the Prussian king 

had aggrieved France in permitting the prince to become a candidate for 

the throne without consulting the French Cabinet. 

Satisfaction for this shadowy source of offence was demanded, but King 

William firmly refused to say any more on the subject and declined to stand 

in the way of Prince Leopold if he should again accept the offer of the 

Spanish throne. This refusal was declared to be an offence to the honor 

and a threat to the safety of France. The war party was so strongly in the 

ascendant that all opposition was now looked upon as lack of 
The Declaration . . , rr , , L . . 

of War patriotism, and on the 15th of July the Prime Minister Olhvier 

announced that the reserves were to be called out and the neces- 
sary measures taken to secure the honor and security of France. When the 
declaration of war was hurled against Prussia the whole nation seemed in 
harmony with it, and public opinion appeared for once to have become a 
unit throughout France. 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 215 

Rarely in the history of the world has so trivial a cause given rise to 
such stupendous military and political events as took place in France in a 
brief interval following this blind leap into hostilities. Instead of a tri- 
umphant march to Berlin and the dictation of peace from its palace, France 
was to find itself in two months' time without an emperor or an army, and 
in a few months more completely subdued and occupied by foreign tn 
while Paris had been made the scene of a terrible siege and a frightful 1 
munistic riot, and a republic had succeeded the empire. It was such a series 
ol events as have seldom been compressed within the short interval of half 
a year. 

In truth Napoleon and his advisers were blinded by their hopes to the 
true st.ii fairs. 'The army on which they depended, and which they 

assumed t • > he in a high state <>f efficiency and discipline, was lacking in 
almost everj requisite "i" an l force. The first Napo- . h 

Icon was his own minister of war. The third Napoleon, when French and 
told by his war minister that "not a single button was want- Oerman 
ing on a single gaiter," took the words for the fact, and 
hurled an army without supplies and organization against the most thor- 
oughly organized army the world had ever known. That the French were 
as brave as the Germans joes without saying; they fought desperately, but 
from the first confus med in their movements, while military science 

of the highest kind dominated those of the Germans. 

N ipoleon was equally mistaken as to the state of affairs in Germany. 
The disunion upon which he counted vanished at the first threat of war. 
All Germany felt itself threatened and joined hands in defence. The 
declaration of war was received there with as deep an enthusiasm as in 
France and a fervent eagerness for the struggle. The new popular son-, 
Die Wacht am Rhein (" The Watch on the Rhine") spread rapidly from 
end to end of the country, and indicated the resolution of the German 
people to defend to the death the frontier stream of their country. 

The French looked for a parade march to Merlin, even fixing the day 
of their entrance into that city — August 15th, the emperor's birthday. On 
the contrary, they failed to set their foot on German territory, and soon 
found themselves engaged in a death truggle with the invaders of their 
own land. In truth, while the Prussian diplomacy was conducted by Bis- 
marck, the ablest statesman Prussia had ever known, the movements of the 
army were directed by far the best tactician Europe then 
possessed, the famous Von Moltke, to whose strategy the ' v ™nMoitke 
rapid success of the war against Austria had been due. In 
tlie war with France Von Moltke, though too old to lead the armies in per- 
12 



£io BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

son, was virtually commander-in-chief, and arranged those masterly combina- 
tions which overthrew all the power of France in so remarkably brief a 
period. Under his directions, from the moment war was declared, every- 
thing worked with clocklike precision. It was said that Von Moltke had 
only to touch a bell and all went forward. As it was, the Crown Prince 
Frederick fell upon the French while still unprepared, won the first battle, 
and steadily held the advantage to the end, the French being beaten by the 
strategy that kept the Germans in superior strength at all decisive points. 

But to return to the events of war. On July 23, 1870, the Emperor 
Napoleon, after making his wife Eugenie regent of France, set out with his 
son at the head of the army, full of high hopes of victory and triumph. By 
the end of July King William had also set out from Berlin to join the 
armies that were then in rapid motion towards the frontier. 

The emperor made his way to Metz, where was stationed his main 

army, about 200,000 strong, under Marshals Bazaine and Canrobert and 

General Bourbaki. Further east, under Marshal MacMahon, 

Strength of t ^ Q ]^ ero Q f Magenta, was the southern army, of about 100,000 

the Armies & , V-i 1 -i 

men. A . third army occupied the camp at Chalons, while a 

well-manned fleet set sail for the Baltic, to blockade the harbors and assail 
the coast of Germany. The German army was likewise in three divisons, 
the first, of 61,000 men, under General Steinmetz ; the second, of 206,000 
men, under Prince Frederick Charles; and the third, of 180,000 men, under 
the crown prince and General Blumenthal. The king, commander-in-chief 
of the whole, was in the centre, and with him the general staff under the 
guidance of the alert Von Moltke. Bismarck and the minister of war Von 
Roon were also present, and so rapid was the movement of these great 
forces that in two weeks after the order to march was given 300,000 armed 
Germans stood in rank alone the Rhine. 

The two armies first came together on August 2d, near Saarbrtick, on 
Battles of Saar- tne frontier line of the hostile kingdoms. It was the one 
briickand success of the French, for the Prussians, after a fight in which 
eissen urg both sides ] os t equally, retired in good order. This was 
proclaimed by the French papers as a brilliant victory, and filled the people 
with undue hope's of glory. It was the last favorable report, for they were 
quickly overwhelmed with tidings of defeat and disaster. 

Weissenburg, on the borders of Rhenish Bavaria, had been invested 
by a division of MacMahon's army. On August 4th the right wing of the 
army of the Crown Prince Frederick attacked and repulsed this investing 
force after a hot engagement, in which its leader^ General Douay, was 
killed, and the loss on both sides was heavy. Two days later occurred a 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW UMPIRE OF GERMANY 217 

battle which decided the fate of the whole war, that of Worth-Reideshofen 

where the army of the crown prince met that of MacMahon, and after a 
desperate struggle, which continued for fifteen hours, completely defeated 
him, with very heavy losses on both sides. MacMahon retreated in haste 
towards the army at Chalons, while the crown prince took possession of 
Alsace, and prepared for the reduction of the fori 1 from 

Strasburg to Belfort. On the same day as that of the battle of Worth, 
General Steinmetz stormed the heights of Spicheren, and, though at great 

of life, drove Frossard from those heights and back, upon Met/. 

The occupation of Alsao was followed by that of Lorraine, by the 
Prussian army under King William, who took poss< ssion of Nancy and the 
country surrounding on August nth. These two provinces had formerly 
belonged to Germany, and it was the aim of the Prussians to occupation f 
retain them as the chief anticipated prize of the war. Mean- Alsace and 
while the world looked on in amazement at the extraordinary Lorra,n e 
rapidity of the German success, which, in two weeks after Napoleon left 
Paris, had brought 'tis power to the verge of overthrow. 

Towards the Moselle River and the strongly fortified town of Metz, 
180 miles northeast of Paris, around which was concentrated the main French 
force, all the divisions of the German army now advanced, ami on the 1 4 tli 
of August they gained a victory at Colombey-Neuvilly which drove their 
opponents back from the open field towards the fortified city. 

It was Moltke's opinion that the French proposed to make their stand 
before this impregnable fortress, and fight there desperately for victory. 
Put, finding less resistance than he expected, he concluded, 
on the 1 5 tli, that Bazaine, in fear of being cooped up within at Metz 
the fortres , meant to march towards Verdun, there to join his 
forces with those of MacMahon and give battle to the Germans in the plain. 

The astute tacl ician at once determined to make every effort to prevent 
this concentration of his opponent ;, and by the evening of the 15th s 
cavalry division had crossed the Moselle and reached the village of Mars-la- 
Four, where it bivouacked for the night. It had seen troops in motion 
towards Met/, hut did not know whether these formed the rear-guard or the 
vanguard of tin- French army in its march tow. mis Verdun. 

In fact, Bazaine had not yet got away with his army. All the roads 
from Met/ were blocked with heavy baggage, and it was impossible to move 
so large an army with expedition. The time thus lost by Bazaine was 
diligently improved by Frederick Charles, and on the morning of the 16th 
the Brandenburg army corps, one of the best and bravest in tin- German 
arm)', had followed the cavalry and come within sight of the Verdun road. 



2i8 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

Yi. was quickly perceived that a French force was before them, and some 

preliminary skirmishing- developed the enemy in such strength as to convince 

the leader of the corps that he had in his front the whole or the greater part 

of Bazaine's army, and that its escape from Metz had not been achieved. 

They were desperate odds with which the brave Brandenburgers had 

to contend, but they had been sent to hold the French until reinforcements 

could arrive, and they were determined to resist to the death. 
The Battle of ,-, ... , .... . 

Mars=la=Tour * H ° r nearly six hours they resisted, with unsurpassed courage, 

the fierce onslaughts of the French, though at a cost in life 
that perilously depleted the gallant corps. Then, about four o'clock in the 
afternoon, Prince Frederick Charles came up with reinforcements to their 
support and the desperate contest became more even. 

Gradually fortune decided in favor of the Germans, and by the time 
night had come they were practically victorious, the field of Marsda-Tour, 
after the day's struggle, remaining in their hands. But they were utterly 
exhausted, their horses were worn out, and most of their ammunition was 

spent, and though their impetuous commander forced them to 
French a new attack, it led to a useless loss of life, for their powers 

of fighting were gone. They had achieved their purpose, 
that of preventing the escape of Bazaine, though at a fearful loss, amount- 
ing to about 16,000 men on each side. " The battle of Vionville [Mars-la- 
Tour] is without a parallel in military history," said Emperor William, "see- 
ing that a single army corps, about 20,000 men strong, hung on to and re- 
pulsed an enemy more than five times as numerous and well equipped. 
Such was the glorious deed done by the Brandenburgers, and the Hohen- 
zollerns will never forget the debt they owe to their devotion." 

Two days afterwards (August 16th), at Gravelotte, a village somewhat 
nearer to Metz, the armies, somewhat recovered from the terrible struggle 
of the 14th, met again, the whole German army being now brought up, so 

that over 200,000 men faced the 140,000 of the French. It 

Oreat Victory ' 

of the Ger- was the great battle of the war. For four hours the two 
mansat^ armies stood fighting face to face, without any special result, 

neither beintr able to drive back the other. The French held 
their ground and died. The Prussians dashed upon them and died. Only 
late in the evening was the right wing of the French army broken, and the 
victory, which at five o'clock remained uncertain, was decided in favor of the 
Germans. More than 40,000 men lay dead and wounded upon the field, the 
terrible harvest of those nine hours of conflict. That night Bazaine with- 
drew his army behind the fortifications at Metz. His effort to join Mac- 
Mahon had ended in failure. 



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BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 221 

It was the fixed purpose ol the Prussians to detain him in that strong- 
hold, and thus render practically useless to France its largest army. Asii 
was to be prosecuted, and an army of 1 50,000 men was extended 

1 1 -i-i r ••• * • r The Sietfe 

around the town. I he lortincations were tar too strong to f Metz 
I-- taken by assault, and all depended on a close blockade. 
On August ;,ist Bazaine made an effort to break through the German lines, 
but was repulsed. It became now a question of how long the provisions of 
the French would hold out. 

The French emperor, who had been with Bazaine, had left his army 
before the battle of Mars-la-Tour, and was now with MacMahon at Chalons. 
Here lay an army of 125,000 infantry and 12,000 cavalry. On it the Ger- 
mans were advancing, in doubt as to what movement it would make, whether 
luck towards Paris or towards Metz for the relict of Bazaine. They sought 
to place themselves in a position to check< ither. The latter movement was 

determined on by the French, but was carried out in a dubious ,. , 

J _ MacMahon 

and uncertain manner, the time lost giving abundant opportu- Marches to 

nity to the Germans to learn what was afoot and to prepare to Relieve 
. , ,.,...,. Bazaine 

prevent it. As soon .is they were aware 01 MacMahons inten- 
tion of proceeding to Metz they made speedy preparations to prevent his re- 
lieving Bazaine. By the- last days of August the army of the crown prince 
had reached the right bank of the Aisne, and the fourth division gained 
possession of the line of the Maas. On August 30th the French under 
General de Failly were attacked by the Germans at Beaumont and put to 
flight with heavy loss. It was evident that the hope of reaching Metz was 
at an end, and MacMahon. abandoning the attempt, concentrated his 
army around the frontier fortress of Sedan. 

This old town stands on tin- right bank of the Meuse, in an angle of 
territory between Luxemburg and Belgium, ami is surrounded by meadows, 
gardens, ravines, ditches and cultivated helds ; the castle rising on a cliff- 
like eminence to the southwest ol tin- place. MacMahon 

, . , , ... - , The French 

had stopped here to give his weary men a rest, not to tight. surrounded 

but \\n\ Moltke decided, on observing the situation, that 

Sedan should be the grave-yard of the French army. "The trap is now 

closed, and the mouse in it," he said, with a chuckle of satisfaction. 

Such proved to be the case. < >u September rst the Bavarians won tl 
village of Bazeille, after hours ol bloody and desperate snuggle. I luring 
this severe tight Marshal MacMahon was so seriously wounded that he v. 
obliged to surrender the chief command, first to Ducrot, and then to Gen- 
eral Wimpffen, a man of recognized bravery and 1 old calculation. 



222 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

Fortune soon showed itself in favor of the Germans. To the north- 
west of the town, the North German troops invested the exits from St. 
Meuges and Fleigneux, and directed a fearful fire of artillery against the 
French forces, which, before noon, were so hemmed in the valley that only 
two insufficient outlets to the south and north remained open. But Gen- 
eral Wimpffen hesitated to seize either of these routes, the 
* . a eo open way to Illy was soon closed by the Prussian guard 
corps, and a murderous fire was now directed from all sides 
upon the French, so that, after a last energetic struggle at Floing, they 
gave up all attempts to force a passage, and in the afternoon beat a 
retreat towards Sedan. In this small town the whole army of MacMahon 
was collected by evening, and there prevailed in the streets and houses an 
unprecedented disorder and confusion, which was still further increased 
when the German troops from the surrounding heights began to shoot 
clown upon the fortress, and the town took fire in several places. 

That an end might be put to the prevailing misery, Napoleon now 
commanded General Wimpffen to capitulate. The flag of truce already 
waved on the gates of Sedan when Colonel Bronsart appeared, and in the 
name of the king of Prussia demanded the surrender of the army and 
fortress. He soon returned to headquarters, accompanied by the French 
General Reille, who presented to the king a written message from Napo- 
leon : " As I may not die in the midst of my army, I lay my sword in the 
hands of your majesty." King William accepted it with an expression of 
sympathy for the hard fate of the emperor and of the French army which 
had fought so bravely under his own eyes. The conclusion of the treaty 
of capitulation was placed in the hands of Wimpffen, who, accompanied by 
General Castelnau, set out for Doncherry to negotiate with Moltke and 
Bismarck. No attempts, however, availed to move Moltke from his stipu- 
lation for the surrender of the whole army at discretion ; he granted a 
short respite, but if this expired without surrender, the bombardment of 
the town was to begin anew. 

At six o'clock in the morning the capitulation was signed, and was 
ratified by the king at his headquarters at Vendresse (2d September). Thus 
the world heheld the incredible spectacle of an army of 83,000 men sur- 
rendering themselves and their weapons to the victor, and being carried off 
as prisoners of war to Germany. Only the officers who gave their written 
word of honor to take no further part in the present war with Germany 
were permitted to retain their arms and personal property. Probably the 
assurance of Napoleon, that he had sought death on the battlefield but had 
not found it, was literally true ; at any rate, the fate of the unhappy man, 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

b< iwed down as he was both by ph) sical .\w\ mental suffering, was so solemn 
and tragic, that there was no mom for hypoi risy, and that he had exposed 
himself to personal danger was admitted on all sides. Ac- surrenderof 
companied by Count Bismarck, he stopped at a small and Napoleon and 
mean-looking laborer's inn on the road to Doncherry, where, H|S Army 
sitting down on a stone seat In ton- the door, with Count Bismarck, he 
declared that he had not desired the war, but had been driven to it through 
the force of public opinion ; and afterwards the two proceeded to the little 
tie of Bellevue, near Frenois, to join King William and the crown 
prince. A telegram to Queen Augusta thus describes the interview: 
" What an impressive moment was the meeting with Napoleon! lb- was 
cast down, but dignified in his bearing. I have granted him Wilhelmshohe, 
near Cassel, as his residence. Our meeting took place in a little castle 
ire the western glacis of Sedan." 

'I"he locking up of Bazaine in Metz and the capture of MacMahon's 
army at Sedan were fatal events to France. The struggle continued for 
months, but it was a fight against hope. The subsequent events of the w 
consisted ol a double siege, that of Metz and that of Paris, with various 
minor sieges, and a desperate but hopeless effort of France in the field. 
As for the empire of Napoleon III., it was at an end. Idle tidings of the 
terrible catastrophe at Sedan filled the people with a fury that soon became 
revolutionary. While fules Favre, the republican deputy, was offering a 
motion in the Assembly that the emperor had forfeited the crown, and that 
a provisional government should be established, the people were thronging 
tin- streets ol l'aris with cries ol "Deposition! Republic!" D ev0 | Ut j on 
On the 4th <>f September the Assembly had its final meeting. ami the Third 
Two of its prominent members, Jules Favre and Gambetta, R e P u »» c 
sustained the motion for deposition of tin- emperor, and it was carried after 
a stormy session. They then made their way to the senate-chamber, where, 
before a thronging audience, they proclaimed a republic and named a 
government for the national defence. At its head was General Trochu, 
military commandant at l'aris. Favre was made minister ol foreign affairs ; 
Gambetta, minister of the interior; and other prominent members of the 
Assembly filled the remaining cabinet poNts. The iture was dis- 

solved, the Palais de Bourbon was closed, and the Empress Eugenie quitted 
the Tuileries and made her escape with a few attendants to Belgium, when 
she sought a refuge in England. Prince Louis Napoleon made his way to 
Italy, and the swarm of courtiers scattered in all directions; some faithful 
followers of the deposed monarch seeking the castle of Wilhelmshohe, 
where the unhappy Louis Napoleon beautiful 



224 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

palace and park in which his uncle Jerome Bonaparte had once passed six 
years in a life of pleasure. The second French Empire was at an end ; the 
third French Republic had begun — one that had to pass through many 
changes and escape many dangers befoYe it would be firmly established. 

" Not a foot's breadth of our country nor a stone of our fortresses 
shall be surrendered," was Jules Favre's defiant proclamation to the 
invaders, and the remainder of the soldiers in the field were 
Defiance collected in Paris, and strengthened with all available rein- 

forcements. Every person capable of bearing arms was en- 
rolled in the national army, which soon numbered 400,000 men. There was 
need of haste, for the victors at Sedan were already marching upon the 
capital, inspired with high hopes from their previous astonishing success. 
They knew that Paris was strongly fortified, being encircled by powerful 
lines of defence, but they trusted that hunger would soon bring its garrison 
to terms. The same result was looked for at Metz, and at Strasburg, which 
was also besieged. 

Thus began at three main points and several minor ones a military siege 
the difficulties, dangers, and hardships of which surpassed even those of the 
winter campaign in the Crimea. Exposed at the fore-posts to the enemy's 
balls, chained to arduous labor in the trenches and redoubts, and suffering from 
the effects of bad weather, and insufficient food and clothing, the German 
soldiers were compelled to undergo great privations and sufferings before 
the fortifications ; while many fell in the frequent skirmishes and sallies, 
many succumbed to typhus and epidemic disease, and many returned home 
mutilated, or broken in health. 

No less painful and distressing was the condition of the besieged. 

While the garrison soldiers on guard were constantly compelled to face 

death in nocturnal sallies, or led a pitiable existence in damp huts, having 

inevitable surrender constantly before their eyes, and disarma- 
Hardships of ... / , r ,. . . , 

the Conflict ment and imprisonment as the reward of all their struggles 

and exertions, the citizens in the towns, the women and chil- 
dren, were in constant danger of being shivered to atoms by the fearful 
shells, or of being buried under falling walls and roofs ; and the poorer part 
of the population saw with dismay the gradual diminution of the necessa- 
ries of life, and were often compelled to pacify their hunger with the flesh 
of horses, and disgusting and unwholesome food. 

The republican government possessed only a usurped power, and 
none but a freely elected national assembly could decide as to the fate of 
the French nation. Such an assembly was therefore summoned for the 
1 6th of October. Three members of the orovernment — Cremieux, Fou- 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 225 

richon, and Glais-Vizoin— wen ' itched before the entire blockad 

the town had been 1 '['ours, to maintain communication with the 

provinces. An attempt was also made at the same time to induce the great 

powerswhich had not taken part in the war to organize an intervention, as 

hitherto only America. Switzerland, and Spain had sent official 

T , . . . ill- • • 1 11 Thiers and 

recognition. I'm this important and delicate mission the old Bismarck 
statesman and historian Thiers was selected, and. in spite of his 
three-and-seventy years, immediately set out on the journey to London, St. 
Petersburg, Vienna, and Florence. Count Bismarck, however, in the name 
of Prussia, refused any int in in internal affairs. In two despatches 

to the ambassadors of foreign courts, the chancellor declared that the war, 
begun by the Emperor Napoleon, had been approved by the representatives 
of the nation, anil that thus all France was answerable for the result. Ger- 
main - was obliged, therefore, to demand guarantees which si -cure her 
in future against attack, or, at any rate, render attack more difficult. Thus a 
cession of territory on the part of France was laid down as the basis of a treaty 
of peace. The neutral powers were also led to the belief that if they fostered in 
the French any hope of intervention, peace would only be delayed. The mis- 
sion of Thiers, therefore, yielded no useful result, while the direct negotiation 
which Jules Favre conducted with Bismarck proved equally unavailing. 

Soon the beleaguered fortresses began to fall. On the 23d of Septem- 
ber the ancient town of Toul, in Lorraine, was forced to capitulate, after a 
fearful bombardment ; and on the 27th Strasburg, in danger of the terrible 
results of a storming, after the havoc of a dreadful artillery fire, hoisted 
the white; flag, and surrendered on the following day. The supposed 
impregnable fortress of Metz held out little longer. Hunger did what 
cannon were incapable of doing. The successive sallies made by Bazaine 
proved unavailing, though, on October 7th, his soldiers fought with des- 
perate energy, and for hours the air was full of the roar of cannon and 
mitrailleuse and the rattle of musketry. But the Germans withstood the 
attack unmoved, and the French were forced to withdraw into the town. 

Bazaine then sought to negotiate with the German leaders at Versailles, 
offering to take no part in the war for three months if permitted to with- 
draw, luii Bismarck and Moltke would listen to no terms siegeand sur- 
other than unconditional surrender, ami these terms were renderof 
finally accepted, the besieged army having readied the brink Metz 
of starvation. It was with horror and despair that France learned, on the 
30th of October, that the citadel of Met/, with its fortifications and arms <<\ 
defence, had been yielded to the Germans, and its army of more than 
150,000 men had surrendered as prisoners of war. 



226 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OP GERMANY 

This hasty surrender at Metz, a still greater disaster to France than 
that of Sedan, was not emulated at Paris, which for four months held out against 
all the efforts of the Germans. On the investment of the great city, King 
William removed his headquarters to the historic palace of Versailles, 

setting up his homely camp-bed in the same apartments from 
at Versailles which Louis XIV. had once issued his despotic edicts and 

commands. Here Count Bismarck conducted his diplomatic 
labors and Moltke issued his directions for the siege, which, protracted from 
week to week and month to month, gradually transformed the beautiful 
neighborhood, with its prosperous villages,, superb country houses, and 
enchanting parks and gardens, into a scene of sadness and desolation. 

In spite of the vigorous efforts made by the commander-in-chief 
Trochu, both by continuous firing from the forts and by repeated sallies, to 
prevent Paris from being surrounded, and to force a way through the 
trenches, his enterprises were rendered fruitless by the watchfulness and 
strength of the Germans. The blockade was completely accomplished ; 
Paris was surrounded and cut off from the outer world ; even the under- 
ground telegraphs, through which communication was for a time secretly 
maintained with the provinces, were by degrees discovered and destroyed. 
But to the great astonishment of Europe, which looked on with keenly 
pitched excitement at the mighty struggle, the siege continued for months 

without anv special progress being- observable from without 

The Siege of ■ i ' r • r ■ , • r\ r 

p aris or any lessening of resistance trom within. On account ot 

the extension of the forts, the Germans were compelled to 
remain at such a distance that a bombardment of the town at first appeared 
impossible ; a storming of the outer works would, moreover, be attended 
with such sacrifices, that the humane temper of the king revolted from such 
a proceeding. The guns of greater force and carrying power which were 
needed from Germany, could only be procured after long delay on account 
of the broken lines of railway. Probably also there was some hesitation 
on the German side to expose the beautiful city, regarded by so many as 
the " metropolis of civilization," to the risk of a bombardment, in which 
works of art, science, and a historical past would meet destruction. Never- 
theless, the declamations of the French at the Vandalism of the northern 
barbarians met with assent and sympathy from most of the foreign powers. 
Determination and courage falsified the calculations at Versailles of a 
quick cessation of the resistance. The republic offered a far more energetic 
and determined opposition to the Prussian arms than the empire had done. 
The government of the national defence still declaimed with stern reitera- 
tion : " Not a foot's breadth of our country ; not a stone of our fortresses!" 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

and positivelj rejected all proposals <>f treaty based on territorial 

sions. Faith in the invincibility of the republic was rooted as an indisp 

ble dogma in the hearts of the French people. The victories and the com- 

:ition of France from 1792 to 1799 arded as so entirely 

the necessary result of the Revolution, that a conviction prevailed that the 

formation of a republic, with a national army for its defence, would ha\ 

ial effect on the rest of Europe. Therefore, instead of summoning a 

tituent Assembly, which, in the opinion of Prussia and 
.... 111 1 , 1 r Th*-' Energy of 

other foreign powers, would alom t ottering Resistance 

security for a lasting peace, it was o continue the 

revolutionary movements, and to follow the same which, in the years 

1792 and 1793, had saved France from . the European powers 

— a revolutionary di< tatorship such as had once been exercised by I 
vention ami the members of tin; Committee of Public Safety, must again 
■. ived, and a youthful and hot-blooded lea ler \\ . needed to stir 

Up popular feeling and set it in motion. To fill such a pail no one was 
ter adapted than the advocate Gambetta, who emulated the career ol the 
leaders of the Revolution, and whose soul glowed with a passionate ardor 
of patriotism. In order to create for himself a free sphered action, and 
to initiate some vigorous measure in place of the well-rounded phrases and 
eloquent proclamations of hi s Trochu and Jules Favre, he quitted 

the capital in an air-balloon and entered into communication with the Gov- 
ernment delegation at Tours, which through him soon ol la fresh im- 
llis next most important task was the liberation of tin: capital from 
the besieging German army, and the expulsion of the enemy from the 

" sacred " soil of France. lor this purpose he summoned, 

... , , , .. 1 1 r (iambettaand 

with the authority 01 a minister ot war, all persons capable oi His Work 

ring arms up to forty years of age to 

and despatched them into the field; he imposed war md terrified the 

tardy and refractory with threats of punishment. Every force was put in 

motion ; all France was transformed inl eat camp. A popular war was 

now to take the place of a soldiers' war, and what the soldiers had failed to 

must be accomplished by the people ; France must be saved, and the 

world freed from despotism. To promote this object, tin: whole ol France, 

with the exception of Paris, was divided into four nments, the 

headquarters of the difl rent governoi Lille, Le Man., Bourges, and 

i. neon. Two armies, from the Poire and from the Somme, wen 

march simultaneously towards Pari., and, aided by the sallies of Troche 

his troops, were to drivi :nemy from the country. Energetic attacks 

were now attempted from time to time, in the hope that when the arum 



228 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

relief arrived from the provinces, it might be possible to effect a coalition ; 
but all these efforts were constantly repulsed after a hot struggle by the be- 
sieging German troops. At the same time, during the month of October, 
the territory between the Oise and the Lower Seine was scoured by recon- 
noitering troops, under Prince Albrecht, the south-east district was protected 
by a Wiirtemberg detachment through the successful battle near Nogent on 
the Seine, while a division of the third army advanced towards the south 
The Southward accompanied by two cavalry divisions. A more unfortunate 

Advance of circumstance, however, for the Parisians was the cutting off of 

the Germans a jj comm unication with the outer world, for the Germans had 
destroyed the telegraphs. But even this obstacle was overcome by the in- 
ventive genius of the French. By means of pigeon letter-carriers and air- 
balloons, they were always able to maintain a partial though one-sided and 
imperfect communication with the provinces, and the aerostatic art was de- 
veloped and brought to perfection on this occasion in a manner which had 
never before been considered possible. 

The whole of France, and especially the capital, was already in a state 
of intense excitement when the news of the capitulation of Metz came to 
Qambetta's a dd fresh fuel to the flame. Outside the walls Gambetta was 

Army of using heroic efforts to increase his forces, bringing Bedouin 

horsemen from Africa and inducing the stern old revolutionist 
Garibaldi to come to his aid ; and Thiers was opening fresh negotiations for 
a truce. Inside the walls the Red Republic raised the banners of insurrec- 
tion and attempted to drive the government of national defence from power. 
This effort of the drees of revolution to inaugurate a reign of terror 
failed, and the provisional government felt so elated with its victory that it 
determined to continue at the head of affairs and to oppose the calling of a 
chamber of national representatives. The members proclaimed oblivion for 
what had passed, broke off the negotiations for a truce begun by Thiers, 
The Negotia- an( ^ demanded a vote of confidence. The indomitable spirit 

tions Are shown by the French people did not, on the other hand, in- 

spire the Germans with a very lenient or conciliatory temper. 
Bismarck declared in a despatch the reasons why the negotiations had 
failed: "The incredible demand that we should surrender the fruits of all 
our efforts during- the last two months, and should go back to the conditions 
which existed at the. beginning of the blockade of Paris, only affords fresh 
proof that in Paris pretexts are sought for refusing the nation the right of 
election." Thiers mournfully declared the failure of his undertaking, but in 
Paris the popular voting resulted in a ten-fold majority in favor of the gov- 
ernment and the policy of postponement. 




V 






KIN'. OSl IR II. OF SWEDEN AND NORWAY. 








KING i HRIS1 IAN l\ "I I'l NMARK. 




i Ml I R< iK I RANI IS JOS1 AUSTRIA 



KING in M HER 1 >>1 II AIA. 




LEI >.\ GAMBETTA 



^MjPf 














FN 



FERDINAND DeLESSEPS 



PRESIDENT LUUBET 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMAN 



After the breaking off of thi tiations, the world anticipated some 

energetic action towards the be I rts of the enemy w< n . 

however, principally directd drawing the iron girdle still tighter, en- 

losing the giant city more and mo ely, and cutting off every means 

j( communication, so that at List a surrender might 1»- brought about by 

tern necessity of starvation. That thi. object would not be accom- 
plished as speedily as at Metz, that the city ol pleasure, enjoyment, and 
luxury would withstand a - f four months, had m-vor been contem- 

plated for a moment. It is true th time went on, all fresh meat disap- 

d from the market, with th ption of horse-flesh ; that white bread, 

mi which Parisians place such value, was replaced l>y a baked compound of 
meal and bran ; that the stores of dried and salted food began to decline, 
until at last rats, dog and even animals from the zoological gardens 

were prepared for consumption at restaurants. Yet, to the F am i ne and 
amazement of the world, all these miseries, hardships, and Misery in 
sufferings wen- courageously borne, nocturnal watch was kept, ar s 
sallies were undertaken, and cold, hunger, and wretchedness of all kinds 
were endured with an indomitable steadfastness and heroism. The com 
of the besieged Parisians was also animated by the hope that the military 
forces in the provinces would hasten to the aid of the hard-pressed capital, 
and that therefore an energetic resist.! mid afford the rest of France 

sufficient time for rallying all its forces, and at the same time exhibit an ele- 
vating example. In the carrying out of this [dan, neither Trochu nor Gam- 
was wanting in the requisite energy ami circumspection. The former 
organized sallies from time to time, in order to reconnoitre and discover 
whether tlu- armvof relief was on its way from the provinces; the latter 
exerted all his powers to bring the Loire army up to the Seine. But both 
erred in undervaluing the German war forces; they did not believe that the 
hostile army would be able to keep Paris in .1 state ol Mo. kade, and at the 
same time engage the armies on the south and north, east and west. They 
had no conception of the hidden, inexhaustible strength of the I'm 
army organization — of a nation in arms which could send forth constant re- 
inforcements of battalions and recruits, and fresh bodies of disciplined troops 
to till the gaps left in the ranks by the wounded and fallen. There could be 
no doubt as to the termination of this terrible war, or the final victoi 
German energy and discipline. 

Throughout the last months of the eventful year 1870, the northern 
part of France, from the Jura to the Channel, from tin- Belgian frontier to 
the Loire, presented the aspect of a wide battlefield. Of the troops that 
hail been set free by the capitulation of Metz, a part remained behind in 



2 3 2 B/SMARCk' AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

garrison, another division marched northwards in order to invest the pro- 
vinces of Picardy and Normandy, to restore communication with the sea, 
and to bar the road to Paris, and a third division joined the second army, 
whose commander-in-chief, Prince Frederick Charles, set up his head- 
quarters at Troyes. Different detachments were despatched against the 
northern fortresses, and by degrees Soissons, Verdun, Thionville, 

The Fall of the pr am wn ere Napoleon had once been a prisoner, Pfalzbure and 
Fortresses ' . 

Montmedy, all fell into the hands of the Prussians, thus open- 
ing to them a free road for the supplies of provisions. The garrison troops 
were all carried off as prisoners to Germany ; the towns — most of them in a 
miserable condition — fell into the enemy's hands ; many houses were mere 
heaps of ruins and ashes, and the larger part of the inhabitants were suffer- 
ing severely from poverty, hunger and disease. 

The greatest obstacles were encountered in the northern part of Alsace 
and the mountainous districts of the Vosges and the Jura, where irregular 
warfare, under Garibaldi and other leaders, developed to a dangerous 
Guerilla War= extent, while the fortress of Langres afforded a safe retreat to 
fareinthe the guerilla bands. Lyons and the neighboring town of St. 
Etienne became hotbeds of excitement, the red flag being 
raised and a despotism of terror and violence established. Although many 
divergent elements made up this army of the east, all were united in hatred 
of the Germans and the desire to drive the enemy back across the Rhine. 

Thus, during the cold clays of November and December, when General 
Von Treskow began the siege of the important fortress of Belfort, there 
burst forth a war around Gray and Dijon marked by the greatest hardships, 
perils and privations to the invaders. Here the Germans had to contend 
with an enemy much superior in number, and to defend themselves against 
continuous firing from houses, cellars, woods and thickets, while the im- 
poverished soil yielded a miserable subsistence, and the broken railroads 
cut off freedom of communication and of reinforcement. 

The whole of the Jura district, intersected by hilly roads as far as the 

plateau of Langres, where, in the days of Caesar, the Romans and Gauls 

were wont to measure their strength with each other, formed during 

November and December the scene of action of numerous encounters 

which, in conjunction with sallies from the garrison at Belfort, inflicted 

severe injury on Werder's troops. Dijon had repeatedly to be evacuated ; 

and the nocturnal attack at Chattillon, 20th November, by 

District Garibaldians, when one hundred and twenty Landwehrmen 

and Hussars perished miserably, and seventy horses were lost, 

affording a striking proof of the dangers to which the German army was 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE < MANY 233 

exposed in this hostile country ; although the revolutionary excesses of the 
turbulent population oi oith diverted to ,1 certain extent the attention 

of the National Guard, who were compelled to turn their weapons against 
an internal enemy. 

By means of the revolutionary dictatorship of Gambetta the whole 
French nation was drawn into the struggle, the annihilation of the enemy 
being repn sented as a national duty, and the war assuming a steadily more 
\ioleiit character. The indefatigable patriot continued his exertions to 

ase the army and unite the whole south and west against Qambetta and 
the enemy, hoping to bring the army of the Loire to such the Army 
dimensions that it would be able to expel the invaders from ° 4 e *° re 

>il of France. But these raw recruits were poorly fitted to cope with 
the highly disciplined Germans, and their early sua -on followed 

by defeat and discouragement, while the hopes entertained by the Paris 
garrison of succor from ith vanished as news oi the steady progre 

the ( rermans were received. 

During these events the war operations before Paris continued un- 
ruptedly. Moltke had succeeded, in spite of the difficulties of 1 
port, in procuring an immense quantity of ammunition, and the long-del; 
bombardment of Paris was ready to begin. Having stationed with all 
secrecy twelve batteries with seventy-six guns around Mont Avron, on 
Christmas-day the firing was directed with such succe nst the forti- 

fied emin n in the second night the French, alter great lo 

evacuated the important position, the "key of Paris," which was immedi- 
ately taken possession <<{ by the Saxons. I rror and dismay spread 
throughout the distracted city when the eastern foi ny, 

ent and Noisy, were stormed amid a tremendous volley e " m " r ', 

& merit ol Paris 

o! firing. Vainly did Trochu endeavor to rouse the failing 
courage o I the National Guard; vainly did he assert that the government 
of the national defence would never consent to the humiliation of a capitu- 
lation ; his own authority had already waned; the newspapers already 
accused him of incapacity and treachery, and began to cast every aspersion 
on the' men wh<> had presumptuously 1 he government, and yet were 

not in a position to effect the defence .■( the capital and the country. After 
the new year the bombardment ol the southern forts began, and the terror 
in the city daily increased, though the violence ol the radical journals kept 
in check any hint ol surrender or negotiation. Vet in spite of fog and 
snow-storms the bombardment was systematically continued, ami with every 
day the destructive effect oi the terrible missiles grew irore pronounced. 



234 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OE GERMANY 

Trochu was blamed for having undertaken only small sallies, which 
could have no result. The commander-in-chief ventured no opposition to 
the party of action. With the consent of the mayors of the twenty arron- 
dissements of Paris a council of war was held. The threatening famine, the 
firing of the enemy, and the excitement prevailing among the adherents of 
the red republic rendered a decisive step necessary. Consequently, on the 
19th of January, a great sally was decided on, and the entire armed forces 
of the capital were summoned to arms. Early in the morning, a body of 
100,000 men marched in the direction of Meudon, Sevres and St. Cloud for 
the decisive conflict. The left wing was commanded by General Vinoy, the 
right by Ducrot, while Trochu from the watch-tower directed the entire 
The Last Great struggle. With great courage Vinoy clashed forward with his 

Sally from column of attack towards the fifth army corps of General 
Kirchbach, and succeeded in capturing the Montretout en- 
trenchment, through the superior number of his troopSj and in holding it 
for a time. But when Ducrot, delayed by the barricades in the streets, failed 
to come to his assistance at the appointed time, the attack was driven 
back after seven hours' fierce fighting by the besieging troops. Having 
lost 7,000 dead and wounded, the French in the evening beat a retreat, 
which almost resembled a flight. On the following day Trochu demanded 
a truce, that the fallen National Guards, whose bodies strewed the battle- 
field, might be interred. The victors, too, had to render the last, rites to 
many a brave soldier. Thirty-nine officers and six hundred and sixteen 
soldiers were given in the list of the slain. 

Entire confidence had been placed by the Parisians in the great sally. 
When the defeat, therefore, became known in its full significance, when the 
number of the fallen was found to be far greater even than had been stated 
in the first accounts, a dull despair took possession of the famished city, 
which next broke forth into violent abuse against Trochu, " the traitor." 
Capitulation now seemed imminent ; but as the commander-in-chief had 
declared that he would never countenance such a disgrace, he resigned his 
post to Vinoy. Threatened by bombardment from without, terrified within 
by the pale spectre of famine, paralysed and distracted by the violent dis- 
sensions among the people, and without prospect of effective aid from the 
provinces, what remained to the proud capital but to desist 

Pari from a conflict the continuation of which only increased the 

unspeakable misery, without the smallest hope of deliverance ? 
Gradually, therefore, there grew up a resolution to enter into negotiations 
with the enemy; and it was the minister Jules Favre, who had been fore- 
most with the cry of "no surrender" four months before, who was now com- 



BISMARCK AMD THE NEW EMPIR* GERMANY 235 

1 to take the first step to deliver his country from complete ruin. It 
probablj the bitterest hour in the life of the brave man, who loved 
France and liberty with such a sincere affection, when he was conducted 
through the German outposts to his interview with Bismarck a( Versailles. 
He brought the proposal for a convention, on the strength of which the 
garrison was to be permitted to retire with military honors to a pari of 
France not hitherto invested, on promising to abstain for several months 
from taking part in the struggle. But such conditions were positively 
ed at the Prussian headquarters, and a surrender was demanded as at 
Sedan and Metz. Completely defeated, the minister returned to Paris. .V 
a second meeting on the following day, it was agreed that from the 2 7th, 
at twelve o'clock at night, the firing on both sides should be discontinued. 
This was the preliminary to the conclusion of a three weeks' truce, to 
await the summons of a National Assembly, with which peace might be 
negotiated. 

The war was at an end so far as Paris was concerned. But it continued 
in the south, where frequent defeat failed to depress Gambetta's indomitable 
energy, and where new troops constantly replaced those put to rout. Gari- 
baldi, at Dijon, succeeded in doing what the French had not done during 
the war, in the capture of a Prussian banner. But the progress of the 
Germans soon rendered his position untenable, and, finding his exertions 
unavailing, he resigned his command and retired to his island 

&' o Bourbaki s 

ipnra. Two disasters completed the overthrow of France. Army and 
Bourbaki's army, S>,ooo strong, became shut in, with scanty theSlegeof 

. . Belfort 

food and ammunition, among the snow-covered valleys of the 
Jura, and to save the disgrace of capitulation it took refuge on the neutral 
soil of Switzerland; and the strong fortress of Belfort, which had been 
defended with the utmost coura rinst its besiegers, finally yielded, with 

the stipulation that the brave garrison should march out with the honors of 
war. Nothing now stood in the way of an extension of the truce. On the 
suggestion of fules Favre, the National Assembly elected a commission of 
fifteen members, which was to aid the chief of the executive, and his min- 
ister-,. Picard and Favre, in the negotiations for peace. That cessions of 
territory and indemnity of war expenses would have to be conceded had 
long been acknowledged in principle; but protracted and excited discussions 
took place as to the extent of the former and the amount of Tne Harsh 
the latter, while the demanded entry of the German troops Terms of 
into Paris met with vehement opposition. But Count Bis- 
marck resolutely insisted on the cession of Alsace and German Lorraine, 
including Metz and Diedenhofen Only with difficulty were the Germans 
13 



236 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

persuaded to separate Belfort from the rest of Lorraine, and leave it still 
in the possession of the French. In respect to the expenses of the war, 
the sum of five milliards of francs ($1,000,000,000) was agreed upon, of 
which the first milliard was to be paid in the year 1871, and the rest in a 
stated period. The stipulated entry into Paris also — so bitter to the French 
national pride — was only partially carried out ; the western side only of the 
city was to be traversed in the march of the Prussian troops, and again 
evacuated in two days. On the basis of these conditions, the preliminaries 
of the Peace of Versailles were concluded on the 26th of February between the 
Imperial Chancellor and Jules Favre. Intense excitement prevailed when the 
terms of the treaty became known ; they were dark days in the annals of French 
history. But in spite of the opposition of the extreme Republican party, led 
by Quinet and Victor Hugo, the Assembly recognized by an overpowering 
majority the necessity for the Peace, and the preliminaries were accepted by 
546 to 107 votes. Thus ended the mighty war between France and Ger- 
many — a war which has had few equals in the history of the world. 

Had King William received no indemnity in cash or territory from 

France, he must still have felt himself amply repaid for the cost of the 

brief but sanguinary war, for it brought him a power and prestige with 

which the astute diplomatist Bismarck had long been seeking to invest his 

name. Political changes move slowly in times of peace, rapidly in times of 

war. The whole of Germany, with the exception of Austria, had sent 

troops to the conquest of France, and every state, north and south alike, 

shared in the pride and glory of the result. South and North 

Germany Germany had marched side by side to the battlefield, every 

difference of race or creed forgotten, and the honor of the 

German fatherland the sole watchword. The time seemed to have arrived 

to close the breach between north and south, and obliterate the line of the 

Main, which had divided the two sections. North Germany was united 

under the leadership of Prussia, and the honor in which all alike shared 

now brought South Germany into line for a similar union. 

The first appeal in this direction came from Baden. Later in the year 
plenipotentiaries sought Versailles from the kingdoms of Bavaria and Wiir- 
temberg and the grand duchies of Baden and Hesse, their purpose being to 
arrange for and define the conditions of union between the South and the 
North German states. For weeks this momentous question filled all Ger- 
many with excitement and public opinion was in a state of high tension. 
The scheme of union was by no means universally approved, there being a 
large party in opposition, but the majority in its favor in Chambers proved 
sufficient to enable Bismarck to carry out his plan. 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 23; 

This was no less than to restore the German Empire, or rather to estab- 
lish a new empire oi Germany, in which Austria, long at the Restoration of 
head oi the former empire, should have no part, the imperial the German 
dignity being conferred upon the venerable King William of Em P' re 

Prussia, a monarch whose birth dated back to the eighteenth century, and 
who had lived throughout the Napoleonic wars. 

Near the close of 1S70 Bismarck concluded treaties with the ambassa- 
dors of the Southern States, in which they agreed to accept the constitution 
of the North German Union. These treaties were ratified, after some op- 
position from the "patriots" of the lower house, by the legislatures of the 
four states involved. The next step in the proceeding was a suggestion 
from the king of Bavaria to the other princes that the imperial crown of 
Germany should he offered to King William of Prussia. 

When the North German Diet at Berlin had given its consent to the 
new constitution, congratulatory address was despatched to the Pruss- 
ian monarch at Versailles. Thirty members of the Diet, with the president 
Simson at their head, announced t<> tin- aged hero-kin-' the nation's wish 
that he should accept the new dignity, lie replied to the deputation in sol- 
emn audience that In- accepted tin- imp* rial dignity which the German nation 
and its princes had offered him. On the 1st of January, 1N71, the new con- 
stitution was to come into operation. The solemn assumption of the im- 
perial office did not take place, however, until the iSthot fanuary, the day on 
which, one hundred and seventy years before, the new em- The Crowning 
peror's ancestor, Frederick I., had placed the Prussian crown of William 1. 
on his head at Konigsberg, and thus laid the basis of the at ersa e * 
growing greatness of his house. It was an ever-memorable coincidence, that 
in the superb-mirrored hall of the Versailles palace, where, since the days 
of Richelieu, so many plans had been concerted for the humiliation of Ger- 
many, King William should now proclaim himself German Emperor. After 
the reading of the imperial proclamation to the German people by Count 
Bismarck, the Grand Duke led a cheer, in which the whole assembly joined 
.miid the sin national hymns. Thus the important event had taken 

place which again summoned the German Empire to life, and made over the 
imperial i rown with renewed splendor to another .royal house. Barbarossa's 
old legend, that the dominion of the empire was, after Ion-- tribulation, to 
pass from the Hohenstaufen to the Hohenzollern, was now fulfilled ; the 
dream Ion- aspired after by German youth had now become a reality and a 
living fact. 

The tidings of the conclusion of peace with France, whose prelimi- 
naries were completed at Frankfurt on the 10th of May, 187 1, filled all Ger- 



238 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

many with joy, and peace festivals on the most splendid scale extended from 
end to end of the new empire, in all parts of which an earnest spirit of 
patriotism was shown, while Germans from all regions of the world sent home 
expressions of warm sympathy with the new national organization of their 
fatherland. 

The decade just completed had been one of remarkable political 
changes in Europe, unsurpassed in significance during any other period of 
A Decade of equal length. The temporal dominion of the pope had van- 
Remarkable ished and all Italy had been united under the rule of a single 
king. The empire of France had been overthrown and a 
republic established in its place, while that country had sunk greatly in 
prominence among the European states. Austria had been utterly defeated 
in war, had lost its last hold on Italy and its position of influence among 
the German states. And all the remaining German lands had united into a 
great and powerful empire, of such extraordinary military strength that the 
surrounding nations looked on in doubt, full of vague fears of trouble from 
this new and potent power introduced into their midst. 

Bismarck, however, showed an earnest desire to maintain international 
peace and good relations, seeking to win the confidence of foreign govern- 
ments, while at the same time improving and increasing that military force 
which had been proved to be so mighty an engine of war. 

In the constitution of the new empire two legislative bodies were pro- 
vided for, the Bundesrath or Federal Council, whose members are annually 
appointed by the respective state governments, and the Reichs- 
of the'Empire ^ a S or Representative body, whose members are elected by 
universal suffrage for a period of three years, an annual ses- 
sion being required. Germany, therefore, in its present organization, is 
practically a federal union of states, each with its own powers of internal 
government, and with a common legislature approximating to our Senate 
and House of Representatives. 

The remaining incidents of Bismarck's remarkable career may be 
briefly given. It consisted largely in a struggle with the Catholic Church 
organization, which had attained to great power in Germany, and was 
aggressive to an extent that roused the vigorous opposition of the chan- 

„, ,. . cellor of the empire, who was not willing to acknowledge anv 

The Power of . r ° a j 

the Catholic power in Germany other than that of the emperor. 

Church in King Frederick William IV., the predecessor of the reigning 

Prussia 

monarch, had made active efforts to strengthen the Catholic 
Church in Prussia, its clergy gaining greater privileges in that Protestant 
state than they possessed in any of the Catholic states. They had estab- 



BISMARCK AND TUP. NEW EMPIRE OF GERMAN} 239 

Hshed everywhere in North Germany their congregations and monasti 
and, by their control of public education, seemed in a fairway to eventually 
make Catholicism supreme in the empire. 

This state of affairs Bismarck set himself en< illy to reform. The 

minister of religious affairs was forced to resign, and his place was 1 
by balk, a sagacious statesman, who introduced a new school law, bringing 
the whole educational system under state control, and carefully regulating 
the power of the clergy over religious and moral education. This law met 
with such violenl opposition that all the personal influence of TheNewLaws 
Bismarck and Falk were needed to carry it, and it gave such Against 
deep offence to the pope that he refused ton nan 

ambassador. He declared the Falk law invalid, and the German bishops 
united in a declaration against the chancellor. Bismarck retorted by a law 
expelling the Jesuits from the empire. 

In 1 S 7 3 the state of affairs became so embittered that the rights and 
liberties of the citizens seemed to need protection against a priesthood 
armed with extensive powers of discipline and excommunication. In con- 
sequence Bismarck introduced, and by his eloquence and influence carried, 
what were known as the May Laws. These provided for the scientific 
education of the Catholic clergy, the confirmation of clerical appointmi 
by the state, and a tribunal to consider and revise the conduct of the 
bishops. 

These enactments precipitated a latter contest between church and 
state, while the pope declared the May Laws null and void and threat* 
with excommunication all priests who should submit to them. The state 
retorted by withdrawing its financial support from the Catholic church and 
tuses of the constitution under which the church claimed 
independence of the state. Pope Pius IX. died in [87 . on the elec- 

tion ol Leo XIII. attempts were made to reconcile the exist- 

,...,- .,,. ... . . , The Triumph of 

ing dinerences. I he reconciliation was a victory lor the the Chnrch 
church, the May Laws ceasing to be operative, the church 
revenues being restored and the control of the clergy ovi n in 

considerable measure regained. New concession granted in 1886 and 

1SS7, and Bismarck felt himself beaten in his conflict with his clerical 

opponents, who had proved too strong and deeply entrenched for him. 

Economic epiestions became al >0 prominent, the revenues of the empire 
requiring some change in the system of free trade and the adoption of pro- 
tective duties, while the railroads were acquired by t! 

empire. Meanwhile the rapid growth ol socialism excited apprehension, 
which was added to when two attempts were made on the life of the em- 



2 4 o BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

peror. These were attributed to the Socialists, and severe laws for the 
suppression of socialism were enacted. Bismarck also sought to cut the 
The Socialists ground from under the feet of the Socialists by an endeavor 
and the in- to improve the condition of the working classes. In 1881 
suranceLaws ] aws were p asse d compelling employers to insure their work- 
men in case of sickness or accident, and in 1888 a system of compulsory 
insurance against death and old are was introduced. None of these, 
measures, however, checked the growth of socialism, which very actively 
continued. 

In 1882 a meeting was arranged by the chancellor between the emper- 
ors of Germany, Russia, and Austria, which was looked upon in Europe as 
a political alliance. In 1878 Russia drifted somewhat apart from Ger- 
many, but in the following year an alliance of defence and offence was con- 
cluded with Austria, and a similar alliance at a later date with Italy. This, 
which still continues, is known as the Triple Alliance In 1877 Bismarck 
announced his intention to retire, being worn out with the great labors of 
his position. To this the emperor, who felt that his state rested on the 
shoulders of the " Iron Chancellor," would not listen, though he gave him 
indefinite leave of absence. 

On March 9, 1888, Emperor William died. He was ninety years of 
age, having been born in 1797. He was succeeded by his son Frederick, 
then incurably ill from a cancerous affection of the throat, which carried him 
to the grave after a reign of ninety-nine days. His oldest son, William, 
succeeded on June 15, 1888, as William II. 

The liberal era which was looked for under Frederick was checked by 

his untimely death, his son at once returning to the policy of William I. and 

William li. and Bismarck. He proved to be far more positive and dictatorial 

the Dismissal in disposition than his Grandfather, with decided and vigorous 

f Rl It 

views of his own, which soon brought him into conflict with 
the equally positive chancellor. The result was a rupture with Bismarck, 
and his dismissal from the premiership in 1890. The young emperor subse- 
quently devoted himself in a large measure to the increase of the army and 
navy, a policy which brought him into frequent conflicts with the Reichstag, 
whose rapidly growing socialistic membership was in strong opposition to 
this development of militarism. 

The old statesman, to whom Germany owed so much, was deeply ag- 
grieved by this lack of gratitude on the part of the self-opinionated young 
emperor. Subsequently a reconciliation took place. But the political career 
of the great Bismarck was at an end, and he died on July 30, 1898. It is an 
interesting coincidence that almost at the same time died the equally great, 



BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF (,I-.RMANY 



24 T 



but markedly different, statesman of England, William Ewart Gladstone. 
Count Cavour, the third great European statesman of the iast half of the 
nineteenth century, had completed his work and passed away nearly forty 
years before. 

The career of William II. has been one of much interest and some 
alarm to the ether nations of Europe. His eagerness for the development 
of the arm\- and navy, and the energy with which he pushed forward its 
organization and sought to add to its strength, seemed significant of warlike 
intentions, and then- was dread that this energetic young monarch might 
break the peace of Europe, if only to prove the irresistible strength of the 
military machine he had formed. But as years went on the The £> eve | op _ 
apprehensions to which his early career and expressions gave mentof the 
rise were quieted, and the fear that he would plunge Europe (ierman Arn, y 
into war vanished. The army and navy began to appear rather a costly 
plaything of the active young man than an engine of destruction, while it 
tended in considerable measure to the preservation of peace by rendering 

many a power dangerous to go to war with. 

The s; - with which the emperor began his reign showed an exag- 

gerated sense of the imperial dignity, though his later career indicated far 
more judgment and -ood sense than the early display of overweening self- 
importance promised, and the views of William II. now command far more 
respect than they did at first. He has shown himself a man of exuberant 
energy. Despite a permanent weakness of his left arm ami a serious affec- 
tion of the ear. he early became a skilful horseman ami an untiring hunter, 
as well as an enthusiastic yachtsman, ami there are few men in the empire 
more active ami enterprising to-day than the Kaiser. 

A principal cause of the break between William and Bismarck was the 

imperial interference with the laws for the suppression of Social- 

• « . nil 11' State Socialism 

ism. As aln . the old chancellor had established a sys- 

tem of compulsorj e insurance, through which workmen and their em- 

ployers—aided by the state — were obliged to provide for the support of 
artisans after a certain age. The system seems to have worked satisfacto- 
rily, but socialism of a more radical kind has grown in the empire far more 
rapidly than the emperor has approved of, and he has vigorously, though 
unsuccessfully, endeavored to prevent its increase. Another of his favorite 
measures, a religious education bill, he was obliged to withdraw on account 
of the opposition it excited. On more than one occasion he has come into 
sharp conflict with the Reichstag concerning increased taxation for the army 
and navy, and a strong party against his autocratic methods has sprung up, 
and has forced him more than once to recede from warmly-cherished measures. 



242 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 

It may be of interest here to say something concerning the organiza- 
tion of the existing German empire. The constitution of this empire, as 
Constitution of adopted April 16, 1871, proposes to "form an eternal union 
the German for the protection of the realm and the care of the welfare of 
Empire ^g German people," and places the supreme direction of mili- 

tary and political affairs in the King of Prussia, under the title of Deutscher 
Kaiser (German emperor). The war-making powers of the emperor, how- 
ever, are restricted, since he is obliged to obtain the consent of the Euridesrath 
(the Federal Council) before he can declare war otherwise than for the defence 
of the realm. His authority as emperor, in fact, is much les'i than that 
which he exercises as King of Prussia, since the imperial legislature is inde- 
pendent of him, he having no power of veto over the laws passed by it. 

This legislature consists of two bodies, the Bundesrath, representing 
the states of the union, whose members, 58 in number, are chosen for each 
session by the several state governments ; and the Reichstag, representing 
the people, whose members, 397 in number, are elected by universal suf- 
frage for periods of five years. The German union, as now constituted, 
comprises four kingdoms, six grand duchies, five duchies, seven principals 
ties, three cities, and the Reichsland of Alsace-Lorraine ; twenty-six 
separate states in all. It includes all the German peoples with the ex- 
ception of those of Austria. 

The progress of Germany within the century under review has been 

very great. The population of the states of the empire, 24,831,000 at the 

end of the Napoleonic wars, is now over 52,000,000, having more than 

doubled in number. The wealth of the country has grown in a far greater 

ratio, and Germany to-day is the most active manufacturing 

The Progress of 

G<n-mas>y nation on the continent of Europe. Agriculture has similarly 

been greatly developed, and one of its products, the sugar 
beet, has become a principal raw material of manufacture, the production of 
beet-root sugar having increased enormously. The commerce of the empire 
has similarly augmented, it having become one of the most active commercial 
nations of the earth. Its imports, considerable in quantity, consist largely 
of raw materials and food stuffs, while it vies with Great Britain and the 
United States in the quantity of finished products sent abroad. In short, 
Germany has taken its place to-day as one of the most energetic of pro- 
ductive and commercial nations, and its wealth and importance have 
increased correspondingly. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Gladstone, the Apostle of Liberalism in England. 

IT is a fact of much interest, as showing the growth of the human mind," 
that William Ewart Gladstone, the great advocate of English Liberal- 
ism, made his first political speech in vigorous opposition to the Reform 
Bill of i S 3 1 . He was then a student at Oxford University, but this boyish 
address had such an effect upon his hearers, th.it Bishop Wordsworth felt 
sure the speaker "would one day rise to be Prime Minister ol England." 
This prophetic utterance may be mated with another one, (i| a j stone - s 
by Archdeacon Denison, who said : "I have just heard the First Political 
best speech I ever heard in my life, by Gladstone, against the 
Reform Bill. But, mark my words, that man will one day be a Liberal, 
for he argued against the Bill on liberal ground." 

Both these far-seeing men hit the mark. Gladstone became Prime 
Minister and the leader of the Liberal Party in England. Yet he had been 
reared as a Conservative, ami for many years he marched under the banner 
of Conservatism. His political career began in the first Reform Parlia- 
ment, in January, 1833. Two years afterward he vas made an under- 
secretary in Sir Robert Peel's Cabinet. It was under the same _, . . 

J (jladstone in 

Premier that he first became a full member of the Cabinet, in Parliament 

[845, as Secretary of State for the Colonies, lie was still a and the 
Tory in home politics, but had become a Liberal in his com- 

ial ideas, and was Peel's right-hand man in carrying out his gre.it 
commercial policy. 

The repeal of the Corn-laws was the work for which his Cabinet had 
been formed, and Gladstone, as the leading Free-trader in the lory ranks 
was called to it. As for Cobden, the apostle of Free-trade, Gladstone 
admired him immensely. "I do not know," he said in later years, "that 
there is in any period a man whose public career ami life were nobler or 
more admirable. Of course, I except Washington. Washington, to my 
mind, is the purest figure in history." As an advocate of Free-trade Glad- 
stone first came into connection with another noble figure, that of John 
Brio ht, who was to remain associated with him during: most of his 
career. In 1S57 he first took rank as one of the great moral forces of 

243 



244 GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OE LIBERALISM 

modern times. In that year he visited Naples, where he saw the barbarous 

treatment of political prisoners under the government of the infamous King 

Bomba, and described them in letters whose indignation was breathed in 

such tremendous tones that England was stirred to its depths 

e e ers an( j a jj jr ur0 p e awakened. These thrilling epistles rave the 
from Naples / t> i & 

cause of Italian freedom an impetus that had much to do with 

its subsequent success, and gained for Gladstone the warmest veneration of 
patriotic Italians. 

In 1852 he first came into opposition with the man against whom he 
was to be pitted during the remainder of his career, Benjamin Disraeli, who 
had made himself a power in Parliament, and in that year became Chan- 
cellor of the Exchequer in Lord Derby's Cabinet and leader of the House 
of Commons. The revenue Budget introduced by him showed a sad lack of 
financial ability, and called forth sharp criticisms, to which he replied in 
a speech made up of scoffs, gibes and biting sarcasms, so daring and auda- 
cious in character as almost to intimidate the House. As he sat down Mr. 
Gladstone rose and launched forth into an oration which became historic. 
He gave voice to that indignation which lay suppressed beneath the cowed 
feeling which for the moment the Chancellor of the Exchequer's perform- 

_. ._ „ ance had left amono- his hearers. In a few minutes the 
First Contest . & 

Between Glad= House was wildly cheering the intrepid champion who had 
stone and rushed into the breach, and when Mr. Gladstone concluded, 

having torn to shreds the proposals of the Budget v a majority 
followed him into the division lobby, and Mr. Disraeli found his govern- 
ment beaten by nineteen votes. Such was the first great encounter between 
the two rivals. 

Lord Derby resigned at once, and politics were plunged into a condi- 
tion of the wildest excitement and confusion. Mr. Gladstone was the butt 
of Protectionist execration. He was near being thrown out of the window 
at the Carlton Club by twenty extreme Tories, who, coming upstairs after 
dinner, found him alone in the drawing-room. They did not quite go this 
length, though they threatened to do so, but contented themselves with 
insulting him. 

In the Cabinet that followed, headed by Lord Aberdeen, Gladstone 
succeeded Disraeli as Chancellor of the Exchequer, a position in which he 
was to make a great mark. In April, 1853, he introduced his first Budget, 
a marvel of ingenious statemanship, in its highly successful effort to equal- 
ize taxation. It remitted various taxes which had pressed hard upon the 
poor and restricted business, and replaced them by applying the succession 
duty to real estate, increasing the duty on spirits, and extending the income 



GLADSTONE, TILE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 2 45 

tax. The latter Gladstone spoke of as an emergency tax, only to be 
applied in times of national danger, and presented a plan to extinguish it in 
i860. His plan failed to work. Nearly fifty years have passed since then, 
and the income tax still remains, seemingly a fixed element of the British 
revenue system. 

Taker, altogether, and especially in its expedients to equalize taxation, 
this first Budget of Mr. Gladstone maybe justly called the Gladstone's 
greatest of the century. The speech in which it was intro- Great Bud- 
duced and expounded created an extraordinary impression on get Speec 
the House and the country. For the first time in Parliament figures were 
made as interesting as a fair}- tale ; the dry bones of statistics were invested 
with a new and potent life, and it was shown how the yearly balancing of 

national accounts might be directed by and made to promote the pro- 
foundest and most fruitful principles of statesmanship. With such lucidity 
and pfcturesqueness was this financial oratory rolled forth that the dullest 
intellect could follow with pleasure the complicated scheme; and for live 
hours the House of Commons sat as if it were under the sway of a inaiji- 
cian's wand. When Mr. Gladstone resumed his seat, it was felt that the 
career of the coalition Ministry was assured by the genius that was discov- 
ered in its Chancellor of the Exchequer. 

It was, indeed, to Gladstone's remarkable oratorical powers that much 
of his success as a statesman was due. No man of his period was his equal 
in swaying and convincing his hearers. His rich and musical voice, his 
varied ami animated gestures, his impressive and vigorous delivery, great 
fluency, and wonderful precision of statement, gave him a oilstone's 
power over an audience which few men of the century have Powers af 
enjoyed. His sentences, indeed, were long and involved, an rato ' 
growing more so as his years advanced, but their fine choice of words, rich 
rhetoric, and eloquent delivery carried away all that heard him, as did his 
deep earnestness, and intense conviction of the truth of his uttei 

We must pass rapidly over a number of years of Gladstone': 
through most of which he continued to serve as Chancellor of the Ex 
chequer, and to amaze and delight the country by tin- financial reforms 
effected in his annual Budgets, between 1853 and 1866 those reforms rep 
resented a decrease in the weight of the burden of the national revenue 
amounting to ^13,000,000. 

Meanwhile his Liberalism had been steadily growing, and reached its 
culmination in 1865, when the great Tory university of Oxford, which he 
had long represented, rejected him as its member. At once he offered him- 
self as a candidate for South Lancashire, in which his native place was situ- 



246 GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 

ated, saying, in the opening of his speech at Manchester : "At last, my 
friends, I am come among you ; to use an expression which has become verj 
famous and is not likely to be forgotten, ' I am come among you unmuz- 
zled.'" 

Unmuzzled he was, as his whole future career was to show. Oxford 
had, in a measure, clipped his wings. Now he was free to give the fullest 
Gladstone the expression to his liberal faith, and to stand before the country 
Liberal Leader as the great apostle of reform. In 1866 he became, for the 
o t e ouse ^ rst t ; me m ]-j[ s career) leader of the House of Commons — 
Lord Russel, the Prime Minister, being in the House of Lords. Many of 
his friends feared for him in this difficult position ; but the event proved 
that they had no occasion for alarm, he showing himself one of the most 
successful leaders the House had ever had. 

His first important duty in this position was to introduce the new suf- 
frage Reform Bill, a measure to extend the franchise in counties and bor- 
oughs that would have added about 400,000 voters to the electorate. In 
the debate that followed Gladstone and Disraeli were again pitted against 
each other in a grand oratorical contest. Disraeli taunted him with his 
youthful speech at Oxford against the Reform Bill of 1831. 

The Suffrage '. , v j ■ 1 r ■ 1 • l- l 

Reform Bill Gladstone replied in a burst of vigorous eloquence, in which 
he scored his opponent for lingering in a conservatism from 
which the speaker gloried in having been strong enough to break. He and 
the Cabinet were pledged to stand or fall with the Bill But, if it fell, the 
principle of right and justice which it involved would not fall. It was sure 
to survive and triumph in the future. He ended with this stirring predic- 
tion : 

" You cannot fight against the future. Time is on our side. The great 
social forces which move onwards in their might and majesty, and which the 
tumult of our debates does not for a moment impede or disturb, those great 
social forces are against you : they are marshalled on our side ; and the ban- 
ner which we now carry into this fight, though perhaps at some moment it 
may droop over our sinking heads, yet it soon again will float in the eye of 
Heaven, and it will be borne by the firm hands of the united people of the 
three kingdoms, perhaps not to an easy, but to a certain, and to a not far 
distant, victory." 

Disraeli and his party won. The Bill was defeated. But its defeat 
roused the people almost as they had been roused in 1832. A formidable 
riot broke out in London. Ten thousand people marched in procession 
past Gladstone's residence, singing odes in honor of " the People's 
William." There were demonstrations in his favor and in support of the 



GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 2\j 

Bill throughout the country. The agitation continued during the winter, 
its fire fed by the eloquence of another of the great orators of the century, 
the "tribune of the people," John Bright. This distingu- j- ;n) r| ani | 
ished man and powerful public speaker, through all his Agitated on 

life a strenuous advocate of moral reform and political orm 

progress, had begun his parliamentary career as an advocate of the Reform 
Bill of 1831-32. Me now became one of the great leaders in the new cam- 
paign and through his ace and that of Gla e the force of public 
opinion rose to such a height that the new Derby-Disraeli ministry found 
itself obliged to bring in a Bill similar to that winch it had worked so hard 
to overthrow. 

And now a striking event took pla The Tory Reform Bill 

was satisfactory to Gladstone in its general features, hut he proposed many 
improvements — lodger franchise, edui I and savings-bank franchises, 

enlargement of the redistribution of etc. — every one of which was 

yielded in committee, until, as one lord remarked, nothing of the original 
Bill remained hut the opening word, "Whereas." This bill, really the work 
of Gladstone, and more liberal than the one which had been defeated, was 
passed, and Toryism, in the very success of its measure, suffered a crushing 
defeat. To Gladstone, as the people perceived, their right to vote was due. 

But Disraeli was soon to attain to the exalted office for which he had 
long been striving. In February, r868, failing health caused [ )israe |j g e . 
Lord Derby to resign, and Disraeli was asked to form a comes Prime 
new administration. Thus the " Asian Mystery," as he had M,ms,er 
been entitled, reached the summit of his ambition, in becoming Prime 
Minister of England. 

He was not to hold this position long Gladstone was to reach the 
same high eminence before the year should end. Disraeli's government, 
beginning in February, [868, was defeated on the question of the disestab- 
lishment of the Irish Church; an appeal to the country resulted in a large 
Liberal gain ; and on December 4th the Queen sent for Mr. Gladstone and 
commissioned him to form a new ministry, The task was completed by 
the 9th, Mr. Bright, who had aided so greatly in the triumph of the 
Liberals, entering the new cabinet as President of the Board of Trade. 
Thus at last, after thirty-five years of active publiclife, Mr. Glad- oi ad<tonc is 
stone was at the summit of power — Prime Minister of Great Atade Prime 
Britain with a strong majority in Parliament in his support. Minister 

Bishop Wilberforce, who met him in this hour of triumph, wrote of him 
thus in his journal : " Gladstone as ever great, earnest, and honest ; as 



248 GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 

unlike the tricky Disraeli as possible. He is so delightfully true and the 
same ; just as full of interest in every good thing of every kind." 

The period which followed the election of 1S68 — the period of the 
Gladstone Administration of 186S-74 — has been called "the golden age of 
Liberalism." It was certainly a period of great reforms. The first, the 
most heroic, and probably — taking all the results into account — the most 
completely successful of these, was the disestablishment of the Irish 
Church. 

Though Mr. Gladstone had a great majority at his back, the difficulties 
which confronted him were immense. In Ireland the wildest protests eman- 
ated from the friends of the Establishment. The " loyal minority " declared 
that their loyalty would come to an end if the measure were passed. One 
synod, speaking with a large assumption, even for a synod, of inspired 
knowledge, denounced it as "highly offensive to the Almighty God." The 
Orangemen threatened to rise in insurrection. A martial clergyman pro- 
posed to " kick the Queen's crown into the Boyne " if she assented to such 
a Bill. Another announed his intention of fighting with the Bible in one 
hand and the sword in the other. These appeals and these threats of civil 
war, absurd as they proved to be in reality, were not without producing 
some effect in Great Britain, and it was amid a din of warnings, of misgiv- 
ing counsels, and of hostile cries, that Mr. Gladstone proceeded to carry out 
the mandate of the nation which he had received at the polls. 

On the first of March, 1869, he introduced his Disestablishment Bill. 
Disestablish- His speech was one of the greatest marvels amongst his ora- 
mentofthe torical achievements. His chief opponent declared that, 
though it lasted three hours, it did not contain a redundant 
word. The scheme which it unfolded — a scheme which withdrew the tem- 
poral establishment of a Church in such a manner that the Church was 
benefited, not injured, and which lifted from the backs of an oppressed people 
an intolerable burden— was a triumph of creative genius. Leaving aside 
his Budgets, which stand in a different category, it seems to us there is no 
room to doubt that in his record of constructive legislation this measure for 
the disestablishment of the Irish Church is Mr. Gladstone's most perfect 
masterpiece. 

Disraeli's speech in opposition to this measure was referred to by the 
London Times as " flimsiness relieved by spangles." After a debate in 
which Mr. Bright made one of his most famous speeches, the bill was car- 
ried by a majority of 118. Before this strong manifestation of the popular 
will the House of Lords, which deeply disliked the Bill, felt obliged to give 
way, and passed it by a majority of seven. 



GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 249 

In 1870 Mr. Gladstone introduced Ids Irish Land Bill, ri measure of 
reform which Parliament had for years refused to grant. Bv 

. . ..,',,,,.. . The Irish Land 

it the tenant was given the right to hold his farm as long as Bi|( nnacted 
he paid his rent, and received a claim upon the improvement 
made by himself and his predecessors — a tenant-right which he could sell. 
This bill was triumphantly carried ; and another important Liberal measure, 
Hr. Forster's Education Bill, became law. 

In the following sessions the tide of Liberal reform continued on its 
course. Among the reforms adopted was that of vote by ballot. A 
measure was introduced abolishing purchase in the Army; and on this ques- 
tion Mr. Gladstone had his third notable conflict with the Lords. The Lords 
threw out the Bill. The imperious Premier, having found that purchase in 
the Army existed only by royal sanction, advised the Queen to issue a Royal 
Warrant cancelling the regulation. By a single act of executive authority 
he carried out a reform to which Parliament had, throi of its branches, 

refused its assent. This was a high-handed, not to say autocratic, step, and 
it afforded a striking revelation of the capacities in boldness and resolu- 
tion of Mr. Gladstone's character. It was denounced as Cajsarism and 
Cromwellism in some quarters; in others as an unconstitutional invocation 
of the royal prerogative. 

But the career of reform at length proved too rapid for the country to 
follow. The Government was defeated in 1873 on a bill for University Edu- 
cation in Ireland. Gladstone at once resigned, but, as Disraeli declined to 

: a Government, he was obliged to resume office. In 1874 i) cteat „f n| a d. 
he took the bold step of dissolving Parliament and appealing stone and the 
to the country for support. If he were returned to power he Liberals 
promised to repeal the income tax. He was not returned. The Tory party 
gained a majority of 46. Gladstone at once resigned, not only th< • Premier- 
ship, but the leadership of the Liberal part)-, and retired to private life — a 
much needed rest after his many years of labor. Disraeli succeeded him as 
Prime Minister, and two years afterwards was raised to the peerage by the 
1 Hieen as the Earl of Beaconsfield. 

Mr. Gladstone was never idle. The intervals of his public duties were 
filled with tireless studies and frequent literary labors. Chief among the 
latter were his " Homeric Studies," works which showed great erudition and 
active mental exercise, though not great powers of critical discrimination. 
They adopted views which were then becoming obsolete, and their conclu- 
sions have 1" en rejected by Homeric scholars. Gladstone's greatness was 
as an orator and a moral reformer, not as a great logician and brilliant 
thinker. 



2 5 o GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 

In the period at which we have arrived his moral greatness and literary 
fervor were both called into exercise in an international cause. The 
Bulgarian atrocities of 1876 — spoken of in Chapter X — called the aged 
Gladstone on statesman from his retirement, and his pamphlet entitled 
the Bulgarian "Bulgarian Horrors and the Question of the East," rang 
Horrors through England like a trumpet-call. " Let the Turks now 

carry away their abuses in the only possible manner — by carrying off them- 
selves," he wrote. " Their Zaptiehs and their Mudirs, their Bimbashis and 
their Yuzbachis, their Kaimakams and their Pashas, one and all, bag and 
baggage, shall, I hope, clear out from the province they have desolated 
and profaned." 

He followed up this pamphlet by a series of speeches, delivered to 
great meetings and to the House of Commons, with which for four years 
he sought, as he expressed it, " night and day to counterwork the purpose 
of Lord Beaconsfield." He succeeded ; England was prevented by his 
His Second eloquence from joining the Turks in the war ; but he excited 

Great Contest the fury of the war party to such an extent that at one time 
with Disraeli j t was not sa r e r Qr j,; m tQ a pp ear ; n t he streets of London. 

Nor was he quite sale in the House of Commons, where the Conservatives 
hated him so bitterly as to jeer and interrupt him whenever he spoke, and a 
party of them went so far as to mob him in the House. 

Yet the sentiment he had aroused saved the country from the greatest 
of the follies by which it was threatened ; and, if it failed to stop the lesser 
adventures in which Lord Beaconsfield found an outlet for the passions he 
had unloosed, — an annexation of Cyprus, an interference in Egypt, an 
annexation of the Transvaal, a Zulu war which Mr. Gladstone denounced 
as " one of the most monstrous and indefensible in our history," an Afghan 
war which he described as a national crime, — it nevertheless was so true an 
interpretation of the best, the deliberate, judgment of the nation, that it 
sufficed eventually to bring the Liberal party back to power. 

This took place in 1880. In the campaign for the Parliament elected 
in that year Gladstone took a most active part, and had much to do with 
the great Liberal victory that followed. In the face of the overwhelming 
Gladstone majority that was returned Lord Beaconsfield resigned office, 

Again Made and Gladstone a second time was called to the head of the 

Premier government. 

As in the previous, so in the present, Gladstone administration the 
question of Ireland loomed up above all others. While Beaconsfield 
remained Premier Ireland was lost sight of, quite dwarfed by the Eastern 
question upon which the two life-long adversaries measured their strength. 



GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 251 

But as Turkey went down in public interest Ireland rose. The Irish people 

ivere gaining a vivid sense of their power under the Constitution. And 

mother famine came to put the land laws and government of Ireland to a 

sever* Still more, Ireland gained a leader, a man of remarkable 

ibility, who was to play as great a part in its history as O'Connell had done 

naif a century before. This was Charles Stewart Parnell, the _ „_ 

Parnell Becomes 

Founder of the Irish Land League a powerful trade-union the Leader 
>f tenant farmers — and for many years the leader of the of the Irish 

Party 

Irish party in Parliament. In the Parliament ol 1SS0 his 

followers numbered sixty-eight, enough to make him a power to be dealt 

with in legislation. 

Gladstone, in assuming control of the new government, was quite 
unaware of the task before him. When he had completed his work with 
the Church and the Land Pills ten years before, he fondly fancied that the 
Irish question was definitely settled. The Home Rule movement, which 
■vas started in i med to him a wild delusion which would die away 

if itself. In 1884 he said : " I frankly admit that I had had much upon my 
'lands connected with the doings of the Beaconsfield Government in every 
piarter of the world, and I did not. know — no one knew — the severity of 
the crisis that w. dy swelling upon the horizon, and that shortly after 

-ushed upon us like a flood." 

He was not long in discovering the gravity of the situation, of which 
:he House had been warned by Mr. Parnell. The famine had brought its 
:rop of misery, and, while the charitable were seeking to relieve the dis- 

. many of the landlords were turning adrift their tenants The Famine ami 
'or non-payment of rents. The Irish party brought in a the Bill for 
Bill for the Suspension of Evictions, which the government lnsh Rel,ef 
by a similar one for Compensation for Disturbance. This was 
1 with a large majority by the Commons, but was rejected by the 
Lords, and Ireland was left to face its misery without relief. 

The state of Ireland at that moment was too critical to be dealt with 

n this manner. The rejection of the Compensation for Disturbance Bill 

ivas, to the peasantry whom it had been intended to protect, a message of 

lespair, and it was followed by the usual symptom of despair in Ireland, 

in outbreak of agrarian crime. On the one hand over 1 7.000 persons were 

evicted ; on the other there ivas a dreadful crop of murders and outrages. 

1'he Land Le night to do what Parliament did not; but in doing se 

t came in contact with the law. Moreover, the revolution — for revolution 

t seemed to be — grew too formidable for its control; the utmost it succeeded 

n doing was in some sense to ride without directing the storm. The first 
14 



2 52 GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 

decisive step of Mr. Forster, the chief secretary for Ireland, was to strike 
a blow at the Land League. In November he ordered the prosecution of 
Mr. Forster's Mr - Parnell, Mr. Biggar, and several of the officials of the 

Policy of organization, and before the year was out he announced his 

Coercion intention of introducing a Coercion Bill. This step threw 

the Irish members under Mr. Parnell and the Liberal Government into rela- 
tions of definitive antagonism. 

Mr. Forster introduced his Coercion Bill on January 24, 1SS1. It was 
a formidable measure, which enabled the chief secretary, by signing a war- 
rant, to arrest any man on suspicion of having committed a given offence, 
and to imprison him without trial at the pleasure of the government. It 
practically suspended the liberties of Ireland. The Irish members ex- 
hausted every resource of parliamentary action in resisting it, and their 
tactics resulted in several scenes unprecedented in parliamentary history. In 
order to pass the Bill it was necessary to suspend them in a body several 
times. Mr. Gladstone, with manifest pain, found himself, as leader of the 
House, the agent by whom this extreme resolve had to be executed. 

The Coercion Bill passed, Mr. Gladstone introduced his Land Bill of 
Gladstone's 1881, which was the measure of conciliation intended to 

New Land balance the measure of repression. This was really a great and 
sweeping reform, whose dominant feature was the introduction 
of the novel and far-reaching principle of the State stepping in between 
landlord and tenant and fixing the rents. The Bill had some defects, as a 
series of amending acts, which were subsequently passed by both Liberal 
and Tory Governments, proved ; but, apart from these, it was on the whole 
the greatest measure of land reform ever passed for Ireland by the Impe- 
rial Parliament. 

But Ireland was not yet satisfied. Parnell had no confidence in the 
good intentions of the government, and took steps to test its honesty, 
which so angered Mr. Forster that he arrested Mr. Parnell and several 
other leaders and pronounced the Land League an illegal body. Forster 
; was well meaning but mistaken. He fancied that by locking up the ring- 
leaders he could bring quiet to the country. On the contrary, affairs were 
soon far worse than ever, crime and outrage spreading widely. 

in Ireland ^ n despair, Mr. Forster released Parnell and resigned. All 
now seemed hopeful ; coercion had proved a failure ; peace 
and quiet were looked for ; when, four days afterward, the whole country 
was horrified by a terrible crime. The new secretary for Ireland, Lord 
Cavendish, and the under-secretary, Mr. Burke, were attacked and hacked 
to death with knives in Phoenix Park. 



GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 253 

rywhere panic and indignation arose. A nev ion Act was 

passed without delay. It was vigorously put into effect, and a state <>f 
virtual war between England and Ireland again came into existence. 

Trouble also arose in the East. ( ireat Britain, in its usual fashion of seek- 

irry the world on its shoulders, had made the control of the : 

Canal an ex or an annoying interfei vernment of Egypt. 

The result was a revolution that drove Ismail Pasha from his throne 

As the British still held control, a revolt broke out among the people, 

I :d by an ambitious leader named Arabi Pasha, and Alexandria was 
British being driven out and many of them killed. Much as 
Gladstone deprecated war, he felt himself forced into it. John Bright, to 
whom war was a crime that nothing could warrant, resigned from the cabi- 
net, but the Government acted vigorously, the British fleet being ordered 
to bombard Alexandria. This was done effectively. The city, half reduced 
to ashes, was occupied by the- British, Arabi and his army 
withdrawing in haste Soon afterwards he was defeated l>y mentof Alex. 
General Wolseley and the insurrection was at an end. Egypt andria and 

remained a vassal of Great Britain. An unfortunate sequel 

Gordon 

to this may be briefly stated. A formidable insurrection 
broke out in the Soudan, under El Mahdi, a Mohammedan fanatic, who 
captured the city of Khartoum and murdered the famous General Gordon. 
For years Upper Egypt was lost to the state, it being recovered only at the 
close of the century by a military expedition. 

In South Africa the British were less successful. Here a war had been 
entered into with the Boers, in which the British forces suffered a severe 
defeat at M.ijuba Hill. Gladstone did not adopt the usual fashion of seek- 
ing revenue by the aid of a stronger force, but made peace, the Boers gain- 
ing what they had been fighting for. 

Disasters like this weakened the administration. Parnell and his fol- 
lowers joined hands with the Tories, and a vigorous assault 
was made upon the government. Slowly its majority fell t h e Liberals 
tway, and at length, in May, 1SS5, it was defeated. 

scene which followed was a curious one. The Irish raised cries of 
" No Coercion," while the Tories delivered themselves up to a frenzy of 
jubilation, waving hats and handkerchiefs, and wildly cheering. Lord Ran- 
dolph Churchill jumped on a bench, brandished his hat madly above his 

I, ami altogether behaved as if he were beside himself. Mr. Gladstone 
cdmly resumed the letter to the Queen which he had been writing on his 
knee, while the clerk at the table proceeded to run through the orders of 
the day. as if nothing particular had happened When in a few moments 



254 GLADSTONE. THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 

the defeated Premier moved the adjournment, he did so still holding his 
letter in one hand and the pen in the other, and the Conservatives surged 
through the doorway, tumultuously cheering. 

Gladstone's great opponent was no longer on earth to profit by his 
defeat. Beaconsfield had died in 1S81, and Lord Salisbury became head of 
the new Tory Government, one which owed its existence to Irish votes. It 
had a very short life. Parnell and his fellows soon tired of their unnatural 
alliance, turned against and defeated the Government, and Gladstone was 
sent for to form a new government. On February i, 1886, he became 
Prime Minister of Great Britain for the third time. 

During the brief interval his opinions had suffered a great revolution. 
He no longer thought that Ireland had all it could justly demand. He re- 
turned to power as an advocate of a most radical measure, that of Home 
Gladstone a Rule for Ireland, a restoration of that separate Parliament 
Convert to which it had lost in 1800. He also had a scheme to buy out 
the Irish landlords and establish a peasant proprietary by state 
aid. His new views were revolutionary in character, but he did not hesitate 
■ — he never hesitated to do what his conscience told him was right. On April 
8, 1886, he introduced to Parliament his Home Rule Bill. 

The scene that afternoon was one of the most remarkable in Parlia- 
mentary history. Never before was such interest manifested in a debate by 
either the public or the members of the House. In order to secure their 
places, members arrived at St. Stephen's at six o'clock in the morning, and 
spent the day on the premises ; and, a thing quite unprecedented, members 
A Remarkable wno cou ld not find places on the benches filled up the floor of 
Scene in Par- the House with rows of chairs. The strangers', diplomats', 
peers', and ladies' galleries were filled to overflowing. Men 
begged even to be admitted to the ventilating passages beneath the floor of 
the Chamber that they might in some sense be witnesses of the greatest 
feat in the lifetime of an illustrious old man of eighty. Around Palace 
Yard an enormous crowd surged, waiting to give the veteran a welcome as 
he drove up from Downing Street. 

Mr. Gladstone arrived in the House, pale and still panting from the 
excitement of his reception in the streets. As he sat there the entire Lib- 
eral party — with the exception of Lord Hartington, Sir Henry James, Mr. 
Chamberlain and Sir George Trevelyan — and the Nationalist members, by 
a spontaneous impulse, sprang to their feet and cheered him again and again. 
The speech which he delivered was in every way worthy of the occasion. 
It expounded, with marvelous lucidity and a noble eloquence, a tremendous 
scheme of constructive legislation — the re-establishment of a legislature in 



GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 255 

Ireland, but one subordinate to the Imperial Parliament, and hedged round 
with every safeguard which could protect the unity of the Empire. It took 
tiiree hours in deliver}-, and was listened to throughout with the utmost 
attention on every side of the House. At its close all parties united in a 
tribute of admiration for the genius which had astonished them with such an 
exhibition of its powers. 

Yet it is one thing to cheer an orator, another thing to vote for a revo- 
lution. The Bill was defeated — as it was almost sure to be. Mr. Gladstone 
at once dissolved Parliament and appealed to the country in a new election, 
with the result that he was decisively defeated. 1 lis bold declaration that 
the contest was one between the classes and the masses turned the aristocracy 
against him, while he had again roused the bitter hatred of his opponents. 

But the " Grand ( dd Man " bided his time. The new Salisbury ministry 
was oneof coercion carried to the extreme in Ireland, wholi iction, arrest 

of members of Parliament, suppression of public meetings by force of arms, 
and other measures of violence which in the end wearied the British public 
and doubled the support of Home Rule. In 1892 Mr. Gladstone returned 
to power with a majority of more than thirty Home Rulers in his support. 

It was one of the greatest efforts in the career of the old Parliamen- 
tary hero when he brought his new Hume Rule Bill before the House. 
Never in his young days had he worked more earnestly and „, . 

* J . } Gladstone's 

incessantly. He disarmed even his bitterest enemies, none of Last and 

whom now dreamed of treating him with disrespect. Mr. Bal Greatest 
four spoke of the delight and fascination with which even his 
opponents watched his leading ol the House and listened to his unsurpa 
eloquence. Old age had come to clothe with its pathos, as well as with its 
majesty, the white-haired, heroic figure. The event provi oi the great- 

est triumphs of his life. The Bill passed with a majority of thirty-four. 
That it would pass in the House of Lords no one looked for. It was de- 
feated there by a majority of 378 out of 460. 

With this great event the public career of the Grand < >ld Man came to 
an end. The burden had grown too heavy for his reduced strength. In 
March, 1894, to the consternation of his party, he announi 
his intention of retiring from public life. The Queen offered, Great Career 
as she had done once before, to raise him to the peerage as an 
earl, but he declined the proffer. His own plain name was a title higher 
than that of any earldom in the kingdom. 

On May 19, 1898 William Ewart Gladstone laid down the burden of his 
life as he had already done that of labor. The greatest and noblest figure in 
legislative life of the nineteenth century had passed away from earth. 



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CHARLES STEWART PARNELL. 



WILLIAM O'BRIEN. 




MICH.4 {j 11/ VUT. T M . HEALY- 

TffUR GREAT MODERN IRISH LEADERS 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Ireland the Downtrodden. 

TIME was when Ireland was free. But it was a barbarian freedom. 
The island had more kings than it had counties, each petty chief 
bearing the royal title, while their battles were as frequent as th 
of our Indian tribes of a past age. The island, despite the fact that it had 
an active literature reaching back to the early centuries of the Christian 
era, was in a condition of endless turmoil. This state of affairs was gradu- 
ally put an end to after the English conquest; but the civili- | re |and in the 
zation which was introduced into the island was made bitter PastCen- 
by an injustice and oppression which has Idled the Irish heart 
with an undying hatred of the English nation and a >s desire to 

break loose from its bonds. 

For centuries, indeed, the rule of England was largely a nominal one, 
the English control beini/ confined to a few coast districts in the east. In 
the interior the native tribes continued under the rule of their chiefs, were 
governed by their own laws, and remained practically independent 

It was not until the reign of James I. that England became master of 
all Ireland. In the last days of the reign of Elizabeth a great rising against 
the English had taken place in Ulster, under a chief named O'Neill. The 
Earl ;>f Essex failed to put it down and was disgraced by the queen in con- 
sequence. The armies of James finally suppressed the rebellion, and the 
unruly island now, for the first time, came fully under the 
control of an English king. It had given the earlier monarchs Rebellion and 
nothing but trouble, and fames determined to weaken its the Confisca- 

, .,.,.,,, , , , . tion of Ulster 

power for mischief. lo do so he took possession ol six 
counties of Ulster and filled them with Scotch and English colonists. As 
for the Irish, tin simply crowded out, and left to seek a living where 

they could. There was no place left for them but the marshes. 

This act of ruthless violence filled the Irish with an implacable hatred 
of their oppressors which lias not vanished in the years since it took place. 
They treasured up their wrongs for thirty years, but in 1641. when England 
was distracted by its civil war. they rose in their wrath, fell upon the 
colonists and murdered all who could not save 

•59 



2bu AND THE DOWNTRODDEN 

eight years, while the English had their hands full at home, tne Irish held 

their reconquered lands in triumph, but in 1649 Cromwell fell upon them 

with his invincible Ironsides, and took such a cruel revenge that he himself 

confessed that he had imbued his hands in blood like a common butcher. 

In truth, the Puritans looked upon the Papists as outside the pale of 

humanity, and no more to be considered than a herd of wild 

Bloody beasts, and they dealt with them as hunters might with 

Severity and noxious animals. 

The severity of Cromwell was threefold greater than that 

the Irish * . s 

of James, for he drove the Irish out of three provinces, 

Ulster, Leinster and Munster, bidding them go and find bread or graves 
in the wilderness of Connaught. Again the Irish rose, when James II., the 
dethroned king, came to demand their aid ; and again they were over- 
thrown, this time in the memorable Battle of the Boyne. William III. now 
completed the work of confiscation. The greater part of the remaining 
province of Connaught was taken from its holders and given to English 
colonists. The natives of the island became a landless people in their 
own land. 

To complete their misery and degradation, William and the succeeding 
monarchs robbed them of all their commerce and manufactures, by forbid- 
ding them to trade with other countries. Their activity in this direction 
interfered with the profits of English producers and merchants. By these 
The Cause of merciless and cruel methods the Irish were reduced to a 
Irish Hatred nation of tenants, laborers and beggars, and such they still 
remain, downtrodden, oppressed, their most lively sentiment 
being their hatred of the English, to whom they justly impute their 
degradation. 

The time came when England acknowledged with shame and sorrow 
the misery to which she had reduced a sister people — but it was then too 
late to retrieve the wrong. English landlords owned the land, manufac- 
turing industry had been irretrievably crowded out, the evil done was past 
mending. 

With these preliminary statements we come to the verge of the nine- 
teenth century. America had rebelled against England and gained 
independence. This fact stirred up a new desire for liberty in the Irish. 
The island had always possessed a legislature of its own, but it was of no 
value to the natives. It represented only the great Protestant land- 
owners, and could pass no act without the consent of the Privy Council 
of England. 



IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 261 

A demand national Parliament was made, and the English 

government, having its experience in America b< fore its eyes, Home ^ U | ean j 
granted it, an act being passed in 17S2 which made Ireland theActof 
independent of England in legislation, a system such as is mon 
now called Home Rule. It was not enough. It did not pacify the island. 
The religious animosity between the Catholics and Protestants continued. 
and in 1798 violent disturbances broke out, with massacres on both sides, 

The Irish Parliament was a Protestant body, and at first was elected 
solely by Protestant votes. Grattan, the eminent Irish statesman, thro 
whose efforts this body had been made an independent legislature, — " The 
King, Lords, and Commons of Ireland, to make laws for the people of Ire- 
land," — carried an act to permit Catholics to vote for its members. He then 
strove for a measure to permit Catholics to sit as members in the Irish 
Parliament. This was too much for George III. He recalled Lord Fitz- 
william, the viceroy of Ireland, who had encouraged and assisted Grattan 
and blighted the hopes of the Irish Catholics. 

The revolt that followed was the work, of a society called the United 
Irishmen, organized by Protestants, but devoted to the interests of Ireland. 
Wolfe Tone, one of its leading members, went to France ami induced Napo- 
leon to send an expedition to Ireland. A fleet was dispatched, but this, like 
the Spanish Armada, was dispersed by a storm, and the few The United 
Frenchmen who landed were soon 1 he rebellion Irishmen and 

was as quickly crushed, and was followed by deeds of remorse- 
less cruelty, so shameful that they were denounced by the commander-in 
chief himself. With this revolt the independence of Ireland ended. An 
act of union was offered and carried through the Irish Parliament by a very 
free use of money among the members, ami the Irish Legislature was incor- 
porated with the British one. Since January 1. 1S01, all laws for Ireland 
have been made in London. 

Among the most prominent members of the United Irishmen Society 
were two brothers named Emmet, the fate of one ol whom has ever since 
been remeir with sympathy, Thomas A. Emmet, one of these 

brothers, was arrested in 1 79S as a member of this society, and was impris- 
oned until 1802, when he was released on condition that he should spend the 
remainder of his life on foreign soil. He eventually reached New York, at 
ise bar he attained eminence. The fate of his more famous brother, 
Robert Emmet, was tragical. This young man, a school-fellow of Thomas 
Moore, the poet, was expelled from Trinity College in 1 79S, when twenty 
years of age, as a member of the United Irishmen. He went to the conti- 



262 IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 

nent, interviewed Napoleon on behalf of the Irish cause, and returned in 
1802 with a wild idea of freeing Ireland by his own efforts from English 
rule. 

Organizing a plan for a revolution, and expending his small fortune in 
the purchase of muskets and pikes, he formed a plot to seize Dublin Castle, 
capture the viceroy, and dominate the capital. At the head of a small body 
The Fate of °^ followers he set out on this hopeless errand, which ended 

Robert Em- at the first volley of the guards, before which his confederates 
met hastily dispersed. Emmet, who had dressed himself for the 

occassion in a green coat, white breeches and cocked hat, was deeply morti- 
fied at the complete failure of his scheme. He fled to the Wicklow moun- 
tains, whence, perceiving that success in his plans was impossible, he 
resolved to escape to the continent. But love led him to death. He was 
deeply attached to the daughter of Curran, the celebrated orator, and, in 
despite of the advice of his friends, would not consent to leave Ireland until 
he had seen her. The attempt was a fatal one. On his return from the 
interview with his lady-love he was arrested and imprisoned on a charge of 
high treason. He was condemned to death September 19, 1803, and 
was hanged the next day. 

Before receiving sentence he made an address to the court of such 
noble and pathetic eloquence that it still thrills the reader with sympathetic 
emotion. It is frequently reprinted among examples of soul-stirring oratory. 
The disconsolate woman, Sarah Curran, perished of a broken heart after his 
untimely death. This event is the theme of one of Moore's finest poems : 
" She is far from the land where her young hero lies." 

The death of Emmet and the dispersal of the United Irishmen by no 
means ended the troubles in Ireland, but rather added to their force. Ire- 
land and England, unlike in the character and religion of their people and 
in their institutions, continued in a state of hostility, masked or active, the 
Landlords, Ten- °^ f eu ds being kept alive on the one side by the landlords, 
ants and on the other by the peasantry and the clergy. The country 

ergy was divided into a great number of small farms, thousands of 

them being less than five acres each in size. For these the landlords — 
many of whom the tenants never saw and some of whom had never seen 
Ireland — often exacted extravagant rents. Again, while the great majority 
of the people was Catholic, the Catholic clergy had to be supported by 
the voluntary contributions of the poverty-stricken people, while tithes, or 
church taxes, were exacted by law for the payment of clergymen of the 
English Church, who remained almost without congregations. Finally, 
the Catholics were disfranchised, After the abolishment of the Irish 



IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 263 

Parliament they were without representation in the government under 
which they lived. No Catholic could be a member of Parliament. It is not 
surprising that their protest was vigorous, and that the British government 
had many rebellious outbreaks to put down. 

It was the disfranchisement of the Catholics that first roused opposition. 
i '.rattan brought up a bill for "Catholic Emancipation "—that oxonnei! and 
is, the admission of Catholics to the British Parliament and the Catholic 
repeal of certain ancient, and oppressive edicts — in 18 13. The mancipa ion 
bill was lost, but a new and greater advocate of Irish rights now arose, I >aniel 
O'Connell, the •'Liberator," the greatest of Irish orators and patriots, who 
for many years was to champion the cause of downtrodden Ireland. 

The '•counsellor" — a favorite title of O'Connell anion- his Irish 
admirers — was a man of remarkable powers, noted for his boisterous Irish 
wit and ^ r ood humor, his fearlessness and skill as a counsel, his constant tact 
and readiness in reply, his unrivalled skill in the cross-examination of Irish 
witnesses, and the violent language which he often employed in court. 
This man, of burly figure, giant strength, inexhaustible energy and power 
of work, a voice mighty enough to drown the noise of a The "Counsel- 
crowd, a fine command of telling lanmia^e, coarse but effec- lor "and His 
live humor, ready and telling retort, and master of all the 
artillery of vituperation, was just the man to control the Irish people, 
passing with the ease of a master from bursts of passion and outbreaks of 
buffoonery to passages of the tenderest pathos. Thoroughly Irish, he 
seemed made by nature to sustain the cause of Ireland. 

O'Connell was shrewd enough to deter revolt, and, while awakening in 
the Irish the spirit of nationality, he taught them to keep political agita- 
tion within constitutional limits, and seek by legislative means what tiny 
had no hope of gaining by force of arms. His legal practice was enor- 
mous, yet amid it he found time for convivial relaxation and for a deep 
plunge into the whirlpool of politics. 

The vigorous advocate was not long in rising to the chiefship of the 
Irish party, but his effective work in favor of Catholic emancipation b 
in 1823, when he founded the "Irish Association," a gigantic system of 
organization which Ireland had nothing similar to before. The 

, ...... , ... , The Irish As- 

clergy were disinclined to take part in this movement, but SOC iation 

O'Connell's eloquence brought them in before the end of the 

year, and under their influence it I national, spreading irresistibly 

throughout the land and rousing everywhere the greatest enthusiasm. I 

obtain funds for its support the "Catholic Rent" was established — one 

penny a month- which yielded as much as ,£500 per week. 



264 IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 

In alarm at the growth of this association, the government brought in a 
bill for its suppression, but O'Connell, too shrewd to come into conflict with 
the authorities, forstalled them by dissolving it in 1825. He had set the 
ball rolling. The Irish forty-shilling freeholders gained courage to oppose 
their landlords in the elections. In 1826 they carried Waterford. In 1828 
O'Connell himself stood as member of parliament for Clare, and was 
elected amid the intense enthusiasm of the people. 

This triumph set the whole country in a flame. The lord-lieutenant 
looked for an insurrection, and even Lord Wellington, prime minister of 
England, was alarmed at the threatening outlook. But O'Connell, knowing- 
that an outbreak would be ruinous to the Catholic cause, used his marvelous 
powers to still the agitation and to induce the people to wait for parliamen- 
tary relief. 

This relief came the following year. A bill was passed which admitted 

Catholics to parliament, and under it O'Connell made his appearance in the 

House of Commons May 15, 1829. He declined to take the old oaths, 

which had been repealed by the bill. The House refused to 
O'Connell in .... , ,. . . , . „, 

Parliament admit rum on these conditions, and he went down to Clare 

again, which sent him back like a conqueror. At the begin- 
ning of 1830 he took his seat unopposed. 

O'Connell's career in parliament was one of persistent labor for the 
repeal of the "Act of Union" with Great Britain, and Home Rule for 
Ireland, in the advocacy of which he kept the country stirred up for years. 
The abolition of tithes for the support of the Anglican clergy was another 
of his great subjects of agitation, and this one member had the strength of 
a host as an advocate of justice and freedom for his country. 

The agitation on the Catholic question had quickened the sense of 

the wrongs of Ireland, and the Catholics were soon engaged in a crusade 

against tithes and the established Church, which formed the most offensive 

symbols of their inferior position in the state. In 1830 the potato crop in 

Ireland was very poor, and wide-spread misery and destitution prevailed. 

O'Connell advised the people to pay no tithes, but in this matter they passed 

beyond his control, and for months crime ran rampant. The 

Trouble farmers refused to pay tithes or rents, armed bands marched 

through the island, and murder and incendiarism visited the 

homes of the rich. A stringent coercion bill was enacted and the troubles 

were put down by the strong hand of the law. Subsequently the Whig party, 

then in power, practically abolished tithes, cutting down the revenue of the 

Established Church, and using the remainder for secular purposes, and the 

agitation subsided. 



IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 265 

In 1852 O'Connell became member for Dublin, and nominated most of 
the Irish candidates, with such that he had in the next Parliament a 

following of forty-five members, known sarcastically as his "tail." He 
gradually attained a position of great eminence in the House of Commons. 
standing in the first rank of parliamentary orators as a debater. 

When a Tory ministry came into power, in 1841, O'Connell began a 
in favor of repeal of the Act of Union and of Home 
Rule for Ireland, advocating the measure with all his wonder- 

r , , T ' . 111 -ii 1 The Home Rule 

ml power of oratory. IniS^hef 1 5,000 miles through crusade 

Ireland, speaking to immense meetings, attended by hun- 
dreds of thousands of people, and extending to every corner of the island. 
But thanks to Ids great controlling power, and the influence of Father 
Mathew, the famous temperance advocate, these audiences were n 
unruly mobs, but remained free from crime and drunkenness. The gr< 
was that held on the Hill of Tara, at which, according to the Nation, three- 
quarters of a millii 'lis were present. 

O'Connell wisely deprecated rebellion and bloodshed. " He who com- 
mits a crime adds strength to the enemy," was his favorite motto. Through 
a whole generation, with wonderful skill, he kept the public mind at the 
highest pitch of political excitement, yet restrained it from violence. But 
with all his power the old chief began to lose control of the enthuisastic 
Young Ireland party and. confident that the government must soon yield to 
the impassioned appeal from a whole nation, he aliowed himself in his 
speeches to outrun his sober judgment. 

1< arful of an outbreak of violence, the government determined to put 
an end to these enormous meetings, and ,1 >f 35,000 men was sent to 

Ireland. A great meeting had been called for Clantarf on October 5, 1843, 
but it was forbidden the day before by the authorities, and O'Connell, 
fearing bloodshed, abandoned it. He was arrested, however, tried for a con- 
spirai y to arouse sedition, and sentenced to a year's imprison- 

, c r r •! • • 11 O'Connell 

ment ami a fine of /,2,cx>3. 1 his sentence was set aside by imprisoned 
the House of Lords some months afterward as erroneous, 
and at once bonfires blazed across Ireland from sea to sea. But the three 
months he passed in prison proved fatal to the old chief, then nearly 
seventy years old. He contracted a disease which tarried him to the grave 
three years afterwards. 

During his withdrawal the Young Ireland party began to advocate 
resistance to the government. In [846 and 1S47 came the potato famine, 
the most severe visitation Ireland had known during the century, and in 
184S the revolutionary movement in Europe made itself felt on Irish soil. 



266 IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 

In the latter year the ardent Young Ireland party carried the country into 
rebellion ; but the outbreak was easily put down, hardly a drop of blood be- 
The Young m S sne< ^ m ' ts suppression. The popular leader, Smith 

Ireland O'Brien, was banished to Australia, but was eventually 

Rebellion pardoned. John Mitchell, editor of the Nation and the United 

Irishman, was also banished, but subsequently escaped from Australia to 
the United States. 

The wrongs of Ireland remained unredeemed, and as long- as this 
was the case quiet could not be looked for in the island. In 1858 a Phoenix 
conspiracy was discovered and suppressed. Meanwhile John O'Mahony, 
one of the insurgents of 1848, organized a formidable secret society among 
the Irish in the United States, which he named the Fenian Brotherhood, 
after Finn, the hero of Irish legend. This organization was opposed by the 
Catholic clergy, but grew despite their opposition, its members becoming 
numerous and its funds large. 

Its leader in Ireland was James Stephens, and its organ the Irish Peo- 
ple newspaper. But there were traitors in the camp and in 1865 the paper 
was suppressed and the leaders were arrested. Stephens 

Brotherhood escaped from prison ten days after his arrest and made his 
way to America. The revolutionary activity of this associa- 
tion was small. There were some minor outbreaks and an abortive attempt 
to seize Chester Castle, and in September, 1867, an attack was made on a 
police van in Manchester, and the prisoners, who were Fenians, were 
rescued. Soon after an attempt was made to blow down Clerkenwell Prison 
wall, with the same purpose in view. 

The Fenians in the United States organized a plot in 1866 for a raid 
upon Canada, which utterly failed, and in 1871 the government of this 
country put a summary end to a similar expedition. With this the active 
existence of the Fenian organization ended, unless we may ascribe to it the 
subsequent attempts to blow down important structures in London with 
dynamite. 

These movements, while ineffective as attempts at insurrection, had 
their influence in arousine the more thoughtful statesmen of England to the 
causes for discontent and need of reform in Ireland, and since that period 
the Irish question has been the most prominent one in Parliament. Such men 
Land Holding as ^ r - Gladstone and Mr. Bright took the matter in hand, 

Reform in Gladstone presenting a bill for the final abolition of Irish tithes 

and the disestablishment of the English Church in Ireland. 

This was adopted in 1868, and the question of the reform of land holding 

was next taken up, a series of measures being passed to improve the 



IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 

condition of the Irish tenant fanner. If ejected, he was to be compen 
for improvements he had ind a Land Commission was formed with 

the power to reduce rents where this seemed necessary, and also to fix the 
rent for a term of years. At a later date a Land Pun nmission was 

organized, to aid tenants in buying their farms from the landlords, by an 
advance of a large portion of the purchase money, with provision for grad- 
lly repayment. 

These measures did not put an end to the agitation. Numerous ejec- 
tions from farms for non-payment of rent had been going on, and a fierce 
struggle was raging u the peasants and thi of the absentee 

landlords. The disturbance was great, and successive Coercion Acts were 
passed. The peasants were supported by the powerful Land League, while 
the old question of Home Rule was revh n, under the active leader- 

ship of Charles Stewart Parnell, who headed a small but very determined 
body in Parliament. The succeeding legislation for Ireland ed by 

Mr. (dadstone, to the passage in the anions 

<■ i tt ti i Tin c 11 ,- • i The Home Rule 

of the Home Rule bill ot 1093. has been sufficiently Agitation 
described in the preceding chapter, and need not be repeated 
here. It will suffice to say in conclusion, that the demand for Home Rule 
still exists, and that, in spite of all efforts at reform, the position of the Irish 
int is far from being satisfactory, the most prolific crop in that long- 
oppressed land seemingly being one of beggary and semi-starvation. 



CHAPTER XVII. 
England and Her Indian Empire. 

IN 1756, in the town of Calcutta, the headquarters of the British in India. 
there occurred a terrible disaster. A Bengalese army marched upon 
and captured the town, taking prisoner all the English who had not 
escaped to their ships. The whole of these unfortunates, 146 in number, 
were thrust into the "black hole," a small room about eigh- 
of Calcutta C teen ^ eet s <3 uare > w ' tn two small windows. It was a night of 
tropical heat. The air of the crowded and unventilated room 
soon became unfit to breathe. The victims fought each other fiercely to 
reach the windows. The next morning, when the door was opened, only 
twenty-three of them remained alive. Such is the famous story of the 
"black hole of Calcutta." 

In the following year (1757) this barbarism was avenged. On the bat 
tlefield of Plassey stood an army of about 1,000 British and 2,100 Sepoys, 
with nine pieces of artillery. Opposed to them were 50,000 native infantry 
_.. . . and 18,000 cavalry, with fifty cannon. The disproportion was 

Battle of enormous, but at the head of the British army was a great 

Plassey leader, Robert Clive, who had come out to India as a humble 

clerk, but was now commander of an army. A brief conflict ended the 
affair. The unwieldy native army fled. Clive's handful of men stood vic- 
torious on the most famous field of Indian warfare. 

This battle is taken as the beginning of the British Empire in India. It is 
of interest to remember that just one hundred years later, in 1857, that em- 
pire reached the most perilous point in its career, in the outbreak of the great 
Indian mutiny. Plassey settled one question. It gave India to the English 
in preference to the French, in whose interest the natives were fighting. The 
empire which Clive founded was organized by Warren Hastings, the ablest 
but the most unscrupulous of the governors of India. At the opening of 
the nineteenth century the British power in India was firmly established. 

In 1708 the Marquis of Wellesly -afterwards known as 

Wellesley's Ca= T . , TT „. n , t? ..1 u U A 

reer in India Lord Wellington— was made governor Even there he had 

his future great antagonist to guard against, for Napoleon was 

at that time in Egypt, and was thought to have the design of driving the 

268 



ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 

British from India and restoring that great dominion to ! Welles! 

career in India was a brilliant one. He overthrew the powerful Mar- 
hatta Confederacy, gained victory alter victory over the native chiefs and 

igul cities of Delhi and Agra, and spread the 
power of the British arms far and wide through the peninsula. 

In the succeeding years war after war ti ice. The warlike 

hattas rebelled and wi re again pul down, other tribes were conquered, and 
in 1824 the city of Bhartpur in Central India, believed by the natives to be 
impregnable, was taken by storm, and the reputation of the British as in- 
domitable fighters was greatly enhanced. Rapidly the British pi 
extended until nearly the whole peninsula was subdued. In 1837 the con- 
querors of India began to interfere in the affairs of Afghanistan, and a Brit- 
ish garrison was placed in Cabul, the capital of that country, in 1S39. 

Two years they stayed there, and then came to them one of tin 

est catastrophes in the history of the British army. Surrounded by hostile 

and daring Afghans, the situation of the garrison grew so perilous that it 

seemed suicidal to remain in Cabul, and il -mined t uate the 

city .uu\ retreat to India through the difficult p of the Himalayas. In 

fanuary, [842, they set out, 4,000 fighting men and 1 2,000 camp followers. 

Deep snows covered the hills ami all around them swarmed The Terrible 

the Alghaos, savage and implacable, bent on their utter de- Retreat 

, . . 1 t • . 1 ..■ from Cabu! 

struction. attacking them from every point oi vantage, cutting 

down women and children with the same ruthless cruelty as they displayed 
in the case of men. One terrible week passed, then, on the afternoon of 
January 13th, the sentinels at 1 Cabul aw approaching 

a miserable, haggard map. able to sit upon his horse. Utterly ex- 

hausted, covered with cuts and contusions, he rode through thi . and 

announced himself as Dr. Brydan, the sole survivor of the army which had 
left Cabul one week before. The remainder, men, women, and children, — 
except a few who had been taken prisoners,- lay slaughtered along that 
dreadful road, their mangled bodies covering almost every foot of its blood- 
stained length. 

The British exacted revenge for this terrible massacre. A powerful 
force fought its way back to Cabul, defeated the Afghans wherever met, and 
rescued the few prisoners in the Afghan hands. Then the soldiers turned 
their backs on Cabul, which no British army was to see again for nearly 
forty years. 

Three years afterwards the British Empire in India was seriously threat- 
ened by one of the most warlike- races in the peninsula, the Sikhs, a cour- 
ageous race inhabiting the Bunjab, in northern India, their capital the 
'5 



270 ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 

city of Lahore. In 1845 a Sikh army, 60,000 strong, with 150 guns, crossed 

the Sutlei River and invaded British territory. Never before 
The War With . 

the Sikhs ^ a< ^ t ' le British in India encountered men like these. Four 

pitched battles were fought, in each of which the British lost 
heavily, but in the last they drove the Sikhs back across the Sutlej and cap- 
tured Lahore. 

That ended the war for the time being, but in 1848 the brave Sikhs 
were in arms again, and pushing the British as hard as before. On the field 
of Chilianwala the British were repulsed, with a loss of 2,400 men and the 
colors of three regiments. This defeat was quickly retrieved. Lord Gough 
met the enemy at Guzerat and defeated them so utterly that their army was 
practically destroyed. They were driven back as a shapeless mass of fugi- 
tives, losing their camp, their standards, and fifty-three of their cherished 
guns. With this victory was completed the conquest of the Punjab. The 
Sikhs became loyal subjects of the queen, and afterwards supplied her armies 
with the most valorous and high-spirited of her native troops. 

Thus time went on until that eventful year of 1S57, when the British 

power in India was to receive its most perilous shock. For a long time 

there had been a great and continually increasing discontent in India. 

Complaints were made that the treaties with native princes were not kept, 

that extortion was practised by which officials grew rapidly and mysteriously 

wealthy, looking upon India as a field for the acquisition of riches, and that 

the natives were treated by the governing powers with deep contempt, 

while every license was granted to the soldiery. The hidden 
The Causes of 
the Mutiny cause of the discontent, however, lay in the deep hatred felt by 

the natives, Hindu and Mussulmen alike, for the dominant 
race of aliens to whom they had been obliged to bow in common subjection ; 
and the fanaticism of the Flindus caused the smouldering- elements of discon- 
tent to burst out into the flames of insurrection. A secret conspiracy was 
formed, in which all classes of the natives participated, its object being 
to overthrow the dominion of the English. It had been prophesied among 
the natives that the rule of the foreign masters of India should last only foi 
a hundred years ; and a century had just elapsed since the triumph of Clive 
at Plassey. 

Small chupathes, cakes of unleavened bread, were secretly passed from 
hand to hand among the natives, as tokens of comradeship in the enter- 
prise. This conspiracy was the more dangerous from making 
The Greased f . t t , ■ 1 , 

Cartridges lts wa Y into the army, for India was a country governed by 

the sword. A rumor ran through the cantonments of the 
Bengal army that cartridges had been served out greased with the fat of 



ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 2 7i 

animals unclean to Hindu and Mussulman alike, ami which the Hindus could 

not bite without loss oi caste, the injunction of their religion obi 

them to abstain from animal fo ler this penalty. After this nothing 

could quiet their minds ; fires broke out nightly in their quarters; officers 

were insulted by their men ; all confidence was gone, and discipline he-came 

an empty form. 

sentence of penal servitude passed upon some of the mutineers 

hi-came the signal for the breaking out of the revolt. At Meerut, on the 

Upper Ganges, the Sepoys broke into rebellion, liberated their comrades 

who were being led away in chains, and marched in a hotly to Delhi, the 

ancient capital ol India and former scat of the Mogul empire. 

, , , , ■ r i -i • i The Old llm- 

riere they took possession of it military mag md peror Akbar 

seized its stores. Those among the British inhabitants who 
did not save themselves by immediate flight were barbar eath ; 

and the decrepit Akbar, the descendant of the Moguls, an old man of ninety, 
w!u > lived at 1 >elhi upon a pensii »n granted to him by the East India Company, 
was drawn from his retirement and proclaimed Emperor of Hindostan by 
the rebels, his son, Mir/a, being associated with him in the government. 

The mutiny spread with terrible rapidity, and m. of the English 

took place at Indole, Allahabad, Azimghur, and other towns. Foremost in 
atrocity stands the massacre perpetrated at Cawnpore by Nana Sahib, the 
adopted son of the last Peishwa of the Marhattas, who, after the Frightful 
entering into a compact with General Wl by which he Massacreat 

promised a free departure to the English, caused the boats in Cawnpore 
which they were proceeding down the river to lie fired upon. The men were 
thus slain, while the women and children were broughl ] prisonei 

Cawnpore. Here they wen- confined for some days in a building, into 
which murderers wen- sent who massai red them every one, the mutilated 
corpses being thrown down a well. 

In Oude, the noble-minded Sir Henry Lawrence defended himself 
throughout the whole summer in the citadel of Lucknow against the rebels 
under Nana Sahib with wonderful skill and bravery, until he was killed by 
the bursting of a bomb, on the 2<\ of fuly. The di 

among whom were many ladies and children, was now extreme. But the little 
garrison held oul for nearly three mouths longer against .the greatest odds 
and amid thi mosl distress rdships. At length came that the Scotch 

eventful day, when, to the keen ears ol one of the despairing siojcanat 
sufferers, a Scotch woman, came from a imiliar and most Uc now 

t ul sound. ■' 1 >inna ye hear the pibroch ?" she cried, springing to her feet 
in the ecstacy of hope renewed. 



272 ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 

Those near her listened but heard no sound, and many minutes passed 
before a swell of wind bore to their ears the welcome music of the bagpipe, 
playing the war-march of the Highlanders of her native land. It came 
from the party of relief led by General Havelock, which had left Calcutta 
on the first tidings of the outbreak, and was now marching in all haste to 
imperilled Lucknow. 

On his way Havelock had encountered the mutineers at Futtipur and 
gained a brilliant victory. Three days later Cawnpore was reached. There 
the insurgent Sepoys fought with desperation, but they were defeated, and 
the British entered the town, but not in time to rescue the women and chil- 
dren, whose slaughter had just taken place. What they saw 
The March of , r11 , , , ,. . , , , . r , 

Havelock there nlleci the soldiers with the deepest sentiments of horror 

and vengeance. The sieht was one to make the blood run 
cold. "The ground," says a witness of the terrible scene, "was strewn 
with clotted blood, which here and there lay ankle deep. Long locks of 
hair were scattered about, shreds of women's garments, children's hats and 
shoes, torn books and broken playthings. The bodies were naked, the 
limbs dismembered. I have seen death in all possible forms, but I could 
not gaze on this terrible scene of blood." 

The frightful slaughter was mercilessly avenged by the infuriated 
soldiers on the people of Cawnpore and on the prisoners they had taken. 
Havelock then crossed the Ganges and marched into Oude. Fiehtine its 
way through the difficulties caused by inclement weather and the continual 
onslaughts of the enemy, Havelock's regiment at last effected a coalition 
with the reinforcements under General Outram, and together they marched 
towards Lucknow, which was reached at the end of September. 

An especial act of heroism was achieved during the siege of Lucknow 
by Mr. Kavanagh, an official, who offered, disguised as a native, to pene- 
trate through a region swarming with enemies, to communicate with the 
general of the approaching relieving force. He happily accomplished his 
dangerous exploit, from which he obtained the honorable nickname of 
" Lucknow Kavanagh." 

As the army of relief drew near, the beleaguered people heard with ears 
of delight the increasing sounds of their approach, the roar of distant guns 
reaching their gladdened ears. Yet the enterprise was a desperate one and 

its success was far from assured. Havelock and Outram had 

The Relief of ,1 , i -i .1 

, . no more than 2,000 men, while the enemy was 50,000 strong. 

Yet as the sound of the guns increased there were evidences 

of panic among the natives. Many of the town people and of the Sepoys 

took to flight, some crossing the river by the bridge, some by swimming. 



ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 

At two o'clock the smoke of the guns was visible in the subui I the 

rattle of musketry could be heard. At five o'clock heavy firing bi 

in the streets, and in a few minutes more a force of I [ighlandei and Sikhs 

turned into ti t leading to th ncy, in which th [garrison 

had so long been confined. Headed by General Outram, they ran 

rapid pace to tie nid wild cheers from those within, made their 

way into the beleaguered enclosure, and the first siege of Lucknow was 

at an end. 

garrison had fought for months behind slight d and against 

enormous odds. They were well supplied with food and water, but they 

had been exposed to terrible heat and heavy and ;ant rains. 

Sepoys had been drilled by British officers, w< re well suppli 

with arms and ammunition, and from the housetops ol the *!'; u enng 

at Lucknow 

town kept up an incessant lire that 1 ever) cornet 

the defended fortress. Sickness raged in the crowded and underground 
rooms in which shelter was sought against th tant musketry, and 

death had reaped a harvest among the gallant and unyielding few who had 
so long held thai almosl untenable post. 

Havelock's men were able to do no more than reinforce the 
rison. Alter fighting their way with heavy losses into the citadel, they 
found that it was impossible, with their small army, to fori 
through the ranks of the eiicmv with the v , children and invalids. 

surrounded by the swarms ol rebels who surged round the walls like a 
foami They were compelled, therefore, to shut themselves up, and 

await fresh reinforcements. Provisions, however, no liminish, 

and they were menaced with tin- horrors of starvation; but 
matters did not reach this last extremity. Sir Colin Camp- Tl »f Coming oi 

1 Campbell 

bell, tin' new commander-in-chief, with 7,000 well-equipped 
troops, was already on the way. lb' arrived at Luckn the 14th of 

November, a bold and successful attack on the fortifii . and 

liberated th> Unable to hold the town, h il to the enemy, 

being ntent h i in the 

dency. Eight days afterwards H ivelock died of cholera. Hi iry is 

held in high esteem as the most heoric figure in the war of the mutiny. 

Meanwhile Delhi was under siege, which began on fune 8th, just one 
month alter the original outbreak. It was, however, not properly a siege, 
for the British wi on a ri< ;ome distai 

from the city. They never numbered more than 8,000 men, s, «S e a "<lp«P" 

. - ture ot Delhi 

while within the walls were over 30,000 of the mutine< 

General Nicholson arrived with a reinforcement in middle August, and on 



274 ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 

September 14th an assault was made. The city was held with desperation 
by the rebels, fighting going on in the streets for six days before the Sepoys 
fled. Nicholson fell at the head of a storming party, and Hodson, the leader 
of a corps of irregular horse, took the old Mogul emperor prisoner, and 
shot down his sons in cold blood. 

It was not until three months and a half after the release of the garri- 
son at Lucknow that Sir Colin Campbell, having dealt out punishment to 
the mutineers at many of the stations where they still kept together, and 
having received large reinforcements of men and artillery from home, pre- 
pared for the crowning attack upon that place. On the 4th of February he 
advanced from Cawnpore, with three divisions of infantry, a division of cav- 
alry, and fifteen batteries, and on the 1st of March operations began ; Gen- 
eral Outram, with a force of 6,000 men and thirty guns, crossing the Goom- 
tee, and reconnoitering the country as far as Chinhut. On the following day 
Final Opera- ne invested the king's race-house, which he carried the next 
tions Against day by assault, and on the 9th Sir Colin Campbell's main force 
Lucknow captured, with a slight loss, the Martiniere, pushed on to the 

bridges across the river, and carried, after some hard fighting, the Begum's 
palace. Two days later the Immaumbarra, which had been converted into 
a formidable stronghold and was held by a large force, was breached and 
stormed, and the captors followed so hotly upon the rear of the flying foe 
that they entered with them the Kaiserbagh, which was regarded by the 
rebels as their strongest fortress. Its garrison, taken wholly by surprise, 
made but a slight resistance. The loss of these two positions, on which they 
had greatly relied, completely disheartened the enemy, and throughout the 
night a stream of fugitives poured out of the town. 

The success was so unexpected that the arrangements necessary for 
cutting off the retreat of the enemy had not been completed, and 
very large numbers of the rebels escaped, to give infinite trouble later 
on. Many were cut down by the cavalry and horse artillery, which set out 
the next morning in pursuit ; but, to the mortification of the army, a con- 
The storming siderable proportion got away. The next day a number of 
of the Fort- palaces and houses fell into the hands of the advancing troops 
without resistance, and by midnight the whole city along the 
river bank was in their possession. In the meantime Jung Bahadoor, the Brit- 
ish ally, was attacking the city with his Goorkhas from the south, and pushed 
forward so far that communications were opened with him halfway 
across the city. The following day the Goorkhas made a further advance, 
and, fighting with great gallantry, won the suburbs adjacent to the 
Charbach bridge. 



ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 



275 



The hard fighting was now over; the failure to defend even one of the 
fortresses upon which for months they had bestowed so much care, com- 
pletely disheartened the mutineers remaining in the city. Numbers effected 
their escape; others hid themselves, after having got rid of their arms and 
uniforms ; some parties took refuge in houses, and defended themselves 
perately to the end. "The work was practically accomplished on the 21st, 
and Lucknow, which had so long been the headquarters of the insurrection, 
was in British hands, and that with a far smaller loss than could have been ex- 

d from the task of capturing a city possessing so many places of 
strength, and held by some 20,000 desperate men fighting with ropes round 
their necks. 

Hie city taken, the troops were permitted to plunder and murder to 
their hearts' content. In every house were dead or dying, and the corpses 
ol Sepoys lay piled up several feet in height. The booty which the soldiers 
carried off in the way of jewels and treasures of every kind was enormous. 
The widowed queen of ( >ude set out lor England, to proclaim 

, . . , ,-iii r 1 w- The Hootv <>f 

the mm icence 01 her son " in the dark countries of the \\ 1 the So i d j ers 

and to preserve to her house the shadow of an indepi 
monarchy. She never saw her sunny India again, however ; on the return 
journe) she died of a broken heart. Though the rebellion tally lost 

force and cohesion after this period, the vengeance continued for a 
longer. But the chiel rebel, Nana Sahib, and the two heroic women, the 
Begum of Oude .\\\v\ the Ranee of Jansee, escaped to Nepaul. In the 
course of the year 1 S 5 S , peace and order again returned to the Anglo-Indian 
Empire, and the government was able to consider means of reconciliation. 
By a proclamation of the queen all rebels who were not directly implicated 
in the murder of British subjects, and would return to their duty and allegi- 
ance by fanuary, 1859, were to obtain a complete amnesty. The East India 
This proclamation also announced that the queen, with the Company 
consent of Parliament, had determined to abolish the East 
India Company, the go\ eminent into her own hands, and to rule India 

by means of a special secretary of state and council. I he Indian Empire, 
both within and without, had assumed such gigantic proportions that it could 
no longer be properly ruled by a mercantile company, and came properly 
under the control of the crown. In 1876 >ia assumed, by act 

of Parliament, the title of Em f India. The most re- victoria is Made 

cent important event, in the acquisition of territory in this Empressof 
part oi the world, was the invasion of Burmah in 1885, and "' ,a 
its capture after a short and decisive campaign. The Indian Empire of 
Victoria has now grown enormous in extent, its borders extending to the 



276 ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 

Himalayas on the north, where they are in contact with the boundaries of 
the great imperial dominion which Russia has acquired in Asia Whether 
the two great rivals will yet come into conflict on this border is a question 
which only the future can decide. 

India possesses a population only surpassed by that of China.amounting 
at the census of 1896 to 221,172,952. This excludes the native and partially 
independent states, the population of which numbers 66,050,479, making a 
total for the whole empire, including Burmah, of 287,223,431. Under British 
control the country has been greatly developed, and abundantly supplied 
with means of internal communication, its railroad lines covering a length 
of about 27,000 miles, and its telegraphs of over 45,000 miles, while the 
telephone has also been widely introduced. Its commerce amounts in round 
numbers to nearly $500,000,000 annually. 

This great country has long been subject to devastating disasters. In 
1876 a terrible tidal wave drowned thousands of the people and destroyed 
millions in value of property. In 1897 much of the country suffered fright- 
fully from famine, being the fifteenth occasion during the century. In the 
same year a plague broke out in the crowded city of Bombay and caused 
dreadful ravages among its native population. For ages past India has been 
subject to visitations of this kind, which have hitherto surpassed the power 
of man to prevent. In the last named all the world came to the aid of the 
starving and science did its utmost to stay the ravages of the plague. 

The famine of 1897 was followed in 1900 by another of equal gravity. 
Lack of rain caused a failure of the crops, a condition which could have 
but one effect in that overcrowded agricultural country, the people of a 
wide district being left without food. The war in South Africa interfered 
with British efforts for the relief of the destitute, but earnest efforts were 
made, and at one time as many as 6,000,000 of the starving people were 
being fed. Fortunately, there succeeded a season of copious rainfall, and 
the stringency of the dreadful situation was greatly relieved. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Thiers, Gambetta, and the Rise of the French 

Republic. 

IT has been already told how the capitulation of the French army at Sedan 
and the captivity of Louis Napoleon were followed in Paris by the 
overthrow oi the empire and the formation of a republic, the third in 
the history of French political changes. A provisional government was 
formed, the legislative assembly v. olved, and all the court parapher- 

nalia of the imperial establishment disappeared. the new 

,......, , . ., A Provisional 

government was called in rans the Government of Lawyers, Government 

most of its members and officials belonging to that profession. 

At its head was General Trochu, in command of the army in Paris; among 

its chief members were Jules Favre and Gambetta. While upright in its 

membership and honorable in its purposes, it was an arbitraiy body, formed 

by a coup d'etat like that by which Napoleon had seized the reins of power, 

and not destined lor a long existence. 

The news of the fall of Metz and the surrender of Bazaine and his 

army served as a fresh spark to the inflammable public feeling of Fra 

In Paris the Red Republic raised the banner of insurrection against the 

government of the national defence and endeavored to revive the spirit of 

the Commune of 1793. The insin 1 to the 

. , 1 1 , 1 • ,• ■ • 1 -i Excitement in 

senate-house, demanded the election ol a municipal council i> ar j S 
which should share power with the government, and pro- 
ce< ded to imprison Trochu, Jules Favre, ami their associates. This, 
however, was hut a temporary success of the Commune, and the provisional 
government 'continued in existence until the end of tl dien a national 

assembly was elected by the people and the temporary government was set 
aside. Gambetta, the dictator, " the organizer of defeats," as he was 
sarcastically entitled, lost his power, and the aged statesman and historian, 
Louis Thiers, was chosen as chief of the executive department of the new 
government. 

The treaty of pi ace with France, including, as it did, the loss of Alsace 
and Lorraine ami the payment of an indemnity of $1,000,000,000, roused 
once more the fierce passions of the radicals and the masses of the great 

277 



278 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 

cities, who passionately denounced the treaty as due to cowardice and treason. 
The dethroned emperor added to the excitement by a manifesto, in which 
he protested against his deposition by the assembly and called for a fresh 
election. The final "incitement to insurrection came when the assembly 
decided to hold its sessions at Versailles instead of in Paris, whose unruly 
populace it feared. 

In a moment all the revolutionary elements of the great city were in a 
blaze. The social democratic " Commune," elected from the central com- 
mittee of the National Guard, renounced obedience to the government and 

the National Assembly, and broke into open revolt. An 
Outbreak of the , -, , . . . . . 

Commune attempt to repress the movement only added to its violence, 

and all the riotous populace of Paris sprang to arms. A new 

war was about to be inaugurated in that city which had just suffered so 

severely from the guns of the Germans, and around which German troops 

were still encamped. 

The government had neglected to take possession of the cannon on 
Montmartre ; and now, when the troops of the line, instead of firing on the 
insurrectionists, went over in crowds to their side, the supremacy over Paris 
fell into the hands of the wildest demagogues. A fearful civil war com- 
menced, and in the same forts which the Germans had shortly before 
evacuated firing once more resounded; the houses, gardens, and villages 
around Paris were again surrendered to destruction, and the creations of 
art, industry, and civilization, and the abodes of wealth and pleasure were 
once more transformed into dreary wildernesses. 

The wild outbreaks of fanaticism on the part of the Commune recalled 
the scenes of the revolution of 1789, and in these spring days of 1871 Paris 
added another leaf to its long history of crime and violence. The insur- 
gents, roused to fury by the efforts of the government to suppress them, 
murdered two generals, Lecomte and Thomas, and fired on the unarmed 

citizens who, as the "friends of order," desired a reconcilia- 
Outrages of the . . . . . . . , 7 ... „,. , . 

Insurgents tlon wltri the authorities at Versailles. 1 hey formed a govern- 
ment of their own, extorted loans from wealthy citizens, 
confiscated the property of religious societies, and seized and held as 
hostages Archbishop Darboy and many other distinguished clergymen and 
citizens. 

Meanwhile the investing troops, led by Marshal MacMahon, gradually 
fought their way through the defences and into the suburbs of the city, and 
the surrender of the anarchists in the capital became inevitable. This 
necessity excited their passions to the most violent extent, and, with the 
wild fury of savages, they set themselves to do all the damage to the historical 



THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 279 

monuments of Paris they could. The noble Vend6me column, the syn 
i)f the warlike renown of France, was torn down from its pedestal and 
hurled prostrate in the street. The most historic buildings in the city were 
1 lire, and either partially or entirely destroyed. Among these were 
the Tuileries, a portion of the Louvre, the Luxembourg, the Palais Royal, 
the Elysee, etc. ; wh ral of the imprisoned hostagi most among 

them Darboy, Archbishop of Paris, and the universally ted minister 

Daguerry, wi ■■ by the infuriated mob. Such crimes excited tl 

sailles troops to terrible vengeance, when they at last succeeded in repi 
ing the rebellion. They w ir way along a bloody course ; human life 

was counted as nothing; the streets were stained with blood and strewn 
with corpses, and the Seim nore ran red between its banks. When 

:it last the Commune surrendered, the judicial courts at Ver- 

... . , . . r .. ,.,. , , , . Punishment (if 

sailles began their work of retribution. 1 he 1 nul parti- the Commune 

cipators in the rebellion who could not save themselves by 
Right were shot by hundreds, confined in forti nsported to the 

colonies. For more than a year the imprisonments, trials, and executions 
continued, military courts being i tied which excited the world for 

months by their wholesale condemnations to exile and to death. 
carnival of anarchy was followed by one of pitiless revenge. 

The Republican government of France, which had been accepted in an 
emergency, was far from carrying with it the support of the whole of the 
assembly or of the people, and the aged, but active and keen-witted Thiers 
had to steer through a medlej of opposing interests and sentiments. His 
government was considered, alike by the Monarchists and the Jacobin 
only provisional, and the Bourbons and Napoleonists on the one hand and 
the advocates of " liberty, equality and fraternity " on the other, intrig 
for its overthrow. But the German armies still remained on French soil, 
[lending the payment of the costs of the war; and the astute chief of the 
live power moderation enough to pacify the passions of 

the people, to restrain their hatred of the Germans, which was so boldly 
exhibited in the streets and in the courts of justice, and to quiet the clai 
for a war of revenge. 

The position of parties at home- was confu 1 distracted, and a 

disturbance of the existing order could only lead to anarchy and civil war. 
Thiers was thus the indispensable man of the moment, and so p res j ucllt 
much was he himself impressed by consciousness of this fact, Thiers and 
that he many times, by the threat of resignation, brought the UieAssembly 
opposing elements in the assembly to harmony and compliance. This 
uccurred even during the siege of Paris, when the forces of tin- government 



280 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 

were in conflict with the Commune. In the assembly there was shown 
an inclination to moderate or break through the sharp centralization of the 
government, and to procure some autonomy for the provinces and towns. 
When, therefore, a new scheme was discussed, a large part of the assembly 
demanded that the mayors should not, as formerly, be appointed by the 
government, but be elected by the town councils. Only with difficulty was 
Thiers able to effect a compromise, on the strength of which the government 
was permitted the right of appointment for all towns numbering over twenty 
thousand. In the elections for the councils the Moderate Republicans proved 
triumphant. With a supple dexterity, Thiers knew how to steer between the 
Democratic-Republican party and the Monarchists. When Gambetta endea- 
vored to establish a " league of Republican towns," the attempt was forbidden 
as illegal ; and when the decree of banishment against the Bourbon and Orlean 
princes was set aside, and the latter returned to France, Thiers knew how to 
postpone the entrance of the Due d'Aumale and Prince de Joinville, who had 
been elected deputies, into the assembly, at least until the end of the year. 

The brilliant success of the national loan went far to strengthen the 
position of Thiers. The high offers for a share in this loan, which indi- 
cated the inexhaustible wealth of the nation and the solid credit of France 
abroad, promised a rapid payment of the war indemnity, the 
consequent evacuation of the country by the German army of 
occupation, and a restoration of the disturbed finances of the 
state. The foolish manifesto of the Count de Chambord, who declared 
that he had only to return with the white banner to be made sovereign of 
France, brought all reasonable and practical men to the side of Thiers, and 
he had, during the last days of August, 1871, the triumph of being pro- 
claimed " President of the French Republic." 

The new president aimed, next to the liberation of the garrisoned 
provinces from the German troops of occupation, at the reorganization of 
the French army. Yet he could not bring himself to the decision of enforc- 
ing in its entirety the principle of general armed service, such as had raised 
Prussia from a state of depression to one of military regeneration. Universal 
military service in France was, it is true, adopted in name, and the army was 
increased to an immense extent, but under such conditions and limitations 
that the richer and more educated classes could exempt themselves from 
service in the army ; and thus the active forces, as before, consisted of pro- 
fessional soldiers. And when the minister for education, Jules Simon, 
introduced an educational law based on liberal principles, he experienced 
en the part of the clergy and their champion, Bishop Dupanloup, such 
violent opposition, that the government dropped the measure. 




DREYFUS. HIS ACCUSERS AND DEFENDERS 
Lawyer I.abori ; Henry, ihe team* 




THE DREYFUS TRIAL 

Dreyfus in tne a err or declaring " / am Innocem. 



THE RISE OF THE TRENCH REPUBLIC 



283 



In order to place the army in the condition which Thiers de 
Increase in the military budget was necessary, and con ntly an 

bancement of the general revenues of the state. For this purpose a return 
to the tariff system, which had been abolished under the empire, was pro- 
posed, but excited so great an opposition in the assembly 

that six months passed before it could be carried. The new Re< * r & an ization 

1 • ot tlle Armv 

>rganization of the army, undertaken with a view of placing 

France on a level in military strength with her late conqueror, was now 
sagerly undertaken by the president. An active army, with five \ 
service, was to b ! to a "territorial army," a kind of militia. And so 

was the demand on the portion of the n ipable of 1 arms 

:hat the new French army ed in numbers that of any other nation. 

Bui all the statesmanship of Thiers coul ivercomi larchy in 

nbly, where th< 1 for monarchy and republicanism were bit- 

erly opposed to each other. Gambetta, in order to rou 

W. • r c , , , Gambetta as 

ic opinion in tavor 01 democracy, mad :ral tours a n Agitator 

hrough the country, his extra' ol Ian giving 

lei p offence to the monarchists, while the opposed sections of the assembly 

rrew wider and more violent in their breach. 

Indisputabli re the valuable services which Thiers had rendered to 

"ranee, by the foundation of public order and authority, the creation of a 
egular army, and the restoration of a solid financial s\ 
lervices met with no recognition in the face of the party j and politi- 

:al passions prevailing among the people's representatives at Versail 
Uore and more did the Royalist reaction gain ground, and, aided by the 
iriests and by national hatred and prejudice, endeavor to bring about the 
lestruction of its opponents. Against the Radicals and Liberals, among 
vhom even the Voltairean Thiers was included, superstition and fanaticism 
vere let loose, and against I lapartists was directed the terrorism of 

ourt mani.d. The French could not r t with the thought that their mili- 
ary supremacy had been broken by the superiority of the Prusso-German 
irms ; their defeats could have proceeded only from the treachery or incapa- 
ity of their leaders. To this national prejudice the Government decided 
bow, and to offer a sacrifia to the popular passion. And thus the world 
•eheld the lamentable spec: mmanders who had Trial and Con- 

urrendered the French fort to the enemy being sub- demnation of 

! to a trial I -martial under the presidency of Mar- the (,enerals 

hal Baraguay d'Hilliers, and the majority of them, on nt of their 

roved incapacity or weakm irived of their military honors, at a mo- 

nent when all had cause to reproach themselves and endeavor to raise up a 



284 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 

new structure on the ruins of the past. Even Ulrich, the once celebrated 
commander of Strasburo- whose name had been given to a street in 
Paris, was brought under the censure of the court-martial. But the chief 
blow fell upon the commander-in-chief of Metz, Marshal Bazaine, to whose 
"treachery" the whole misfortune of France was attributed. For months 
he was retained a prisoner at Versailles, while preparations were made for 
the great court-martial spectacle, which, in the following year, took place 
under the presidency of the Due d'Aumale. 

The result of the party division in the assembly was, in May, 1873, a 
vote of censure on the ministry which induced them to resign. Their resig- 
nation was followed by an offer of resignation on the part of Thiers, who 
MacMahon experienced the unexpected slight of having it accepted by 

Elected the majority of the assembly, the monarchist MacMahon, 

Marshal of France and Duke of Magenta, being elected 
President in his place. Theirs had just performed one of his greatest ser- 
vices to France, by paying off the last installment of the war indemnity and 
relieving the soil of his country of the hated German troops. 

The party now in power at once began to lay plans to carry out their 
cherished purpose of placing a Legitimist king upon the throne, this honor 
being offered to the Count de Chambord, grandson of Charles X. He, an 
old man, unfitted for the thorny seat offered him, and out of all accord with 

The Count d t ^ le s P' r ' t °^ tne t> mes . P ut a sudden end to the hopes of his 
Chambord partisans by his mediaeval conservatism. Their purpose was to 
and His establish a constitutional government, under the tri-colored flag 

of revolutionary France ; but the old Bourbon gave them to under- 
stand that he would not consent to reign under the Tricolor, but must remain 
steadfast to the white banner of his ancestors ; he had no desire to be "the 
legitimate king of revolution." 

This letter shattered the plans of his supporters. No man with ideas 
like these would be tolerated on the French throne. There was never to be 
in France a King Henry V. The Monarchists, in disgust at the failure of 
their schemes, elected MacMahon president of the republic for a term of 
seven years, and for the time being the reign of republicanism in France 
was made secure. 

While MacMahon was thus being raised to the pinnacle of honor, his 

former comrade Bazaine was imprisoned in another part of the palace at 

Trial and Sen= Versailles, awaiting trial on the charge of treason for the sur- 

tenceof render of Metz. In the trial, in which the whole world took a 

deep interest, the efforts of the prosecution were directed to 

prove that the conquest of France was solely due to the treachery of the 



THE RISE OF Til!-: FRENC 11 REPUBLH 285 

ponapartist marshal. 1> ipite all that could I ' in his . he was 

found guilty by the court-martial, sentenced to degradation from his rank in 
the army, and to he put to death. 

A letter which Prince Frederick Charles wrote in his favor only added 
to the wrath of tin; people', who cried aloud for his execution. But, as 
though the judges themselves felt a twinge of conscience at the sentence, 
t In y at lib- same time signed a petition for pardon to the president of the 
republic. MacMahon thereupon commuted the punishment of death into a 
jrwenty years' imprisonment, remitted the disgrace of the formalin 
military degradation, without cancelling its operation, and appointed as the 
prisoner's place of confinement the fortess on the island of St. Marguerite, 
opposite Cannes, known in connection with the "iron mask." Bazaine's 
wealth}' Mexican wife obtained permission to reside near him, with her fam- 
ily and servants, in a pavilion of th This afforded her an op- 
portunity of bringing about the freedom of her husband in the following 
year with the aid of her brother. After an adventurous escape, by letting 
himself down with a rope to a Geni :ssel, Bazaine lied to Holland, and 
then offered his services to the Republican government of Spain. 

In 1875 the constitution under which France is now governed was 
adopted by the republicans. It provides for a legislature of two chamb 
jjne a chamber of deputies elected by the people, the other a of 300 

members, 75 of whom are elected by the- National Assembly The New Con- 
and the others by electoral colleges in the departments of stitution of 
France. The two chambers unite to elect a president, who " ra "ce 
has a term of seven years, lb- is commander-in-chief of the army, appoints 
all officers, receives all ambassadors, executes the laws, and appoints the 
cabinet, which is responsible to the Senate and House of Deputies, — thus 
resembline- thecabii rreat Britain instead of that of the United St 

This constitution was soon ignored by the arbitrary president, who 
forced the resignation of a cabinet which he could not control, ami repl; 
it by another responsible to himself instead of to th mbly. His act. 

>f autocracy roused a violent opposition. Gambetta moved that the repre- 
sentatives of the people had no confidence in a cabinet which was not 
in its actions and not Republican in its principles. The sudden death of 
Thiers, whose last writing was a defence ot the republic, MacMahon 
stirred the heart of the nation and added to the excitement, KcsiRtisand 
which soon reached fever heat. In the election that followed 0rey y ecte 
the Republicans were in so great a majority over the Conservatives that 
tin- president was compelled r to resign or 1 rn according to the 

constitution. He accepted the latter and appointed a cabinet composed 



286 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 

of Republicans. But the acts of the legislature, which passed laws to pre 
vent arbitrary action by the executive and to secularize education, so 
exasperated the old soldier that he finally resigned from his high office. 

Jules Grevy was elected president in his place, and Gambetta was 
made president of the House of Deputies. Subsequently he was chosen 
presiding minister in a cabinet composed wholly of his own creatures. His 
Gambetta as career in this high office was a brief one. The Chambers 
Prime riin= refused to support him in his arbitrary measures and he 
resigned in disgust. Soon after the self-appointed dictator, 
who had played so prominent a part in the war with Germany, died from a 
wound whose origin remained a mystery. 

The constitution was revised in 1884, the republic now declared per- 
manent and final, and Grevy again elected president. General Boulanger, 
the minister of war in the new government, succeeded in making himself highly 
popular, many looking upon him as a coming Napoleon, by whose genius 
the republic would be overthrown. 

In 1887 Grevy resigned, in consequence of a scandal in high circles, 

and was succeeded by Sadi Carnot, grandson of a famous general of the 

first republic. Under the new president two striking events took place. 

General Boulanger managed to lift himself into great promi- 

e areer o nence, and gain a powerful following- in France. Carried 
Boulanger & .... 

away by self-esteem, he defied his superiors, and when tried 

and found guilty of the offence, was strong enough in France to overthrow 

the ministry, to gain re-election to the Chamber of Deputies, and to defeat 

a second ministry. 

But his reputation was declining. It received a serious blow by a duel 
he fought with a lawyer, in which the soldier was wounded and the lawyer 
escaped unhurt. The next cabinet was hostile to his intrigues, and he fled to 
Brussels to escape arrest. Tried by the Senate, sitting as a High Court of Jus- 
tice, he was found guilty of plotting against the state and sentenced to imprison- 
ment for life. His career soon after ended in suicide and his party dis- 
appeared. 

The second event spoken of was the Panama Canal affair. De Lesseps, 

the maker of the Suez Canal, had undertaken to excavate a similar one 

across the Isthmus of Panama, but the work was managed with such wild 

extravagance that vast sums were spent and the poor in- 

l ?t ma , . vestors widely ruined, while the canal remained a half-dug 
Canal Scandal J & 

ditch. At a later date this affair became a great scandal, 
dishonest bargains in connection with it were abundantly unearthed, bribery 
was shown to have been common in high places, and France was shaken 



THE RISE OF THE FRENCH RL . 






to its centre by the startling exposure. I'" Lesseps, fortunately for him, 
escaped by death, but others ol the leaders in the enterprisi con- 

demned and punished. 

In the s ling year Is manifold threatened I if the 

French republic. A moral decline apped the foundations 

of public virtue, and the new military organization rose to a dangerous 
height of power, becoming a monster of ambition anil iniquity which i 
shadowed and portended evil to the state The spirit of anarchy, which 
had been so strikingly displayed in the of the Parisian 

° ' . Anarchy in 

nmune, was shown later in various instam leath and Franceand 

destruction by the use of dynamite bombs, exploded in Paris Murder of 

... n • i • i -i the President 

and elsewhere, hut its most striking example was in the 
murder of President Carnot, who was stabbed by an anarchist in the streets 
of Lyons. This assassination, and the disheartening exposures of dishon- 
est) in the Panama Canal Case trials, stirred the moral sentiment of France 
to its depths, and made many of the best citizens despair of the perma- 
nency of the republic. 

But the most alarming threat came, from the army, which had grown in 
power and pr until it fairly overtopped the state, while iders 

felt competent to set at defiano ivil authorities. This tic army 

was an < iutgn »wth of the Franco-Prussian war. The terrible punishment v. 
the French had received in that war, and in particular the loss of Al 
and Lorraine, filled them with bitter hatred of Germany and The K 
a burning desire for Yet it was evident that their zatlon ••? 

military organization was so imperfect as to them help- * e " rm > 

less before the army of Germany, and the first thing to be done was to place 
themselves >^\ a level in military strengh with their foe. To thi -lent 

Thiers had ly devoted himself, and the work of army o ition 

went on until all France was virtually converted into 

by powerful fori and the whole of the country wen cally 

made part and portion of the army. 

The final result of this pment of one of th 

and well-appointed military establishments in Eur The immediate, 

of the reorganization of the army gradually passed away. As time 
went on the intense feelir many softened ami th< 

war decreased. Hut tin: army became more and more dominant in France, 
and, as the century neared its end,, the autocratic position of its leaders was 
revealed by a startling event, which showed vividly to the world the moral 
decadence of France and the controlling influence and dominating : 
the members of the General Staff. This was the celebrated Dreyfus 

16 



288 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 

Case, the cause celebre of the end of the century. This case is of such im- 
portance that a description of its salient points becomes here necessary. 

Albert Dreyfus, an Alsatian Jew and a captain in the Fourteenth Regi- 
ment of Artillery of the French army, detailed for service at the Informa- 
The Opening txon Bureau of the Minister of War, was arrested October 15, 
of the Drey= 1 894, on the charge of having sold military secrets to a for- 
eign power. The following letter was said to have been 
found at the German embassy by a French detective, in what was declared 
to be the handwriting of Dreyfus : 

" Having no news from you I do not know what to do. I send you in 
the meantime the condition of the forts. I also hand you the principal in- 
structions as to firing. If you desire the rest I shall have them copied. The 
document is precious. The instructions have been given only to the officers 
of the General Staff. I leave for the manoeuvres." 

For some time prior to the arrest of Dreyfus on the charge of being 
the author of this letter, M. Drumont, editor of the Libre Parole, had been 
carrying on a violent anti-Semitic agitation through his journal. He raved 
about the Jews in general, declared Dreyfus guilty, and asserted that there 
was danger that he would be acquitted through the potent Juiverie, "the 
cosmopolite syndicate which exploits France." 

Public opinion in Paris became much influenced by this journalistic as- 
sault, and under these circumstances Dreyfus was brought to trial before a 
military court, found guilty and condemned to be degraded from his mili- 
tary rank, and by a special act of the Chamber of Deputies was ordered to 
be imprisoned for life in a penal settlement on Devil's Island, off the coast 
of French Guiana, a tropical region, desolate and malarious in character. The 
sentence was executed with the most cruel harshness. During part of his de- 
tention Dreyfus was locked in a hut, surrounded by an iron cage, on the 
island. This was done on the plea of possible attempts at rescue. He was 
allowed to send and receive only such letters as had been transcribed by one 
of his guardians. 

He denied, and never ceased to deny, his guilt. The letters he wrote 
to his counsel after the trial and after his disgrace are most pathetic asser- 
tions of his innocence, and of the hope that ultimately justice would be done 
him. His wife and family continued to deny his guilt, and used every influ- 
ence to get his case reopened. 

The first trial of Dreyfus was conducted by court-martial and behind 
closed doors. Some parts of the indictment were not communicated to the 
accused and his lawyer. The secrecy of the trial, the lack of fairness in its 
management, his own protestations of innocence, the anti-Jewish feeling, 



THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 

and ihe imenl in the affair aroused a stro 

that Dreyfus, being a Jew, had been i a scapi >me om 

and had been unjustly convicted. Many eminent literary men Ik .| icf in the 
of France, md even M. Scheurer-Kestner, a vice president of innocence 
the Senate none of them Jews -eventually advocated the 

ntence which failed to appeal to the sense of ju : the 

best element of France. 

It was asserted by some that Dreyfus had sold the plans of various 
strongly fortified places to the German government, and by others that the 
sale had been to the Italian government. It was also said that he had dis- 
closed the plans for the mobilization of the French army in case of war, 
covering il departments, and especially the important fortre 

Briancon, the Alpine Gibraltar near the Italian frontier. 

The bordereau, the paper on which the chai D fus were 

based, was a memorandum of tr< lations concerning French 

military affairs. The dossier was the official en\ TheBordereau 

the papers relative to the case, whi< ed to and the 

be sufficient to prove the guilt of the accused officer. The bor- 
dereau was examined by fivi s in handwriting, only three of whom testi- 
fied that it could have been written by 1 )reyfus. The papers in the dossier were. 

ihown to Dreyfus or his counsel, so that it was impossible to refute them. 
In fact, the court-martial was conducted in the most unfair manner, and many 

me convinced that some disgraceful mystery lay behind it, and that 
Dreyfus had been made a sea Id some one higher in office. 

It was in the early part of 1898 that the case fit promi 

nently to public notice, after tl of the unfortunate prisoner had, with 

the most earnest devotion for th btain for 

him a new trial. Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart, in charge ol tin 
service bureau at Paris, became familiar through his official duties with the 
famous case, and was struck with the. similarity 1 the handwritin 

the 1 eau and that of Count Ferdinand Esterhazy, an ol f the 

French army and a descendant of tl known izy 

, TI ., \ t ill, r- The Accusation 

family of Hungary. Shortly afterwards M. : ter fEsterhazy 

declared that military secrets had continue.: I after 

the arrest of Dr \ fus, that in 1 rich and titled officer had 

requested to resign, and that thi author of the bor- 

dereau. This man was Count Esterhazy, whose exposure was due t,> 
Picquart's fortunate ivery. Oth >k up this accusation, and the 

affair was so ventilated that was subjected trial by 

irt-martial, which ended in an acquittal. 



290 



THE RISE OE THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 



At the close of the Esterhazy trial a new defender of Dreyfus stepped 
into the fray, Emile Zola, the celebrated novelist. He wrote an open letter 
to M. Faure, then President of France, entitled " J "accuse" ("I accuse"), 
Zola's Letter which was published in the Aurore newspaper. In it he boldly 
and Accusa- charged that Esterhazy had been acquitted by the members 
of the court-martial on the order of their chiefs in the minis- 
try of war, who were anxious to show that French military justice could 
not possibly make an error. 

This letter led to the arrest and trial of Zola and the manager of the 
paper, their trial being conducted in a manner specially designed to prevent 
the facts from becoming known. They were found guilty of libel against 
the officers of the court-martial and sentenced to heavy fines and one year's 
imprisonment. On appeal, they were tried again in the same unfair way, 
and received the same sentence. Zola took care, by absenting himself 
from France, that the sentence of a year's imprisonment should not be 
executed. 

As time went on new evidence became revealed. Colonel Henry, who 
was one of the witnesses in the Zola trial, was confronted with a damaging 
fact, one of the most important papers in the secret dossier being traced to 
Henry's For- nun - He confessed that he had forged it to strengthen the 
geryand case against Dreyfus, was imprisoned for the offence, and 

committed suicide in Jiis cell — or was murdered, as some 
thought. Picquart was punished by being sent to Africa, and afterwards 
imprisoned. He made the significant remark that if he should be found 
dead in his cell it would not be a case of suicide. Esterhazy was said to 
have acknowledged to a London editor that he was the author of the bor- 
dereau, and it was proved that the handwriting was identical with his and 
the paper on which it was written a peculiar kind which he had used in 
1894. The papers in the secret dossier were also alleged to be a mass of 
forgeries. 

The great publicity of this case, in which the whole world had taken 
interest, — the action of the French courts being universally condemned, — and 
the development of the facts just mentioned, at length goaded the officials 
of the French government to action. President Faure had the case con- 
sidered by the cabinet, and finally forced a revision. In consequence the 
cabinet resigned and a new one was chosen. As a result the case was 
brought before the Court of Cassation, the final court of appeal, which, 
after full consideration, ordered a new trial of the condemned officer. 

Captain Dreyfus was accordingly brought from Devil's Island, and on 
July 1, 1899, reached the city of Rennes, where the new court-martial was 




THE BOMBARDMENT OF ALEXANDRIA 

ii „ f i„fcs P«»h« for Ihe expulsion ol Ihe baled British from tbeti counnry, 



cfence, and the city ten mio i 
...ns in their retreat- 




BATTLE BETWEEN THE ENGLISH AND THE ZULUS, SOUTH AFRICA 

°' a rt l M ,h „ e „. n h , ir i '; S , enCO ,'i ntered b> j' h u- Eptishin Africa ' ,here were none more krave and daring than the Zulu, of the South, who 
v»li»n?hhV! ! ' Pear i M ',", C t hargC aga ' nst ,he death dealin S rifies "f their f °« Cetewavo, the leader of these 

h» V™, 11 "7!.? man . ^v Uld hav ? be , en a hero in civilized warfare. As a captive savage in London streets 
he compelled the respect of his enem.es bv the maie.tic dienitv of his he»rin„ L „„ ,h, rt»ht .„ r».„™ 



77//;' RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 






to be held. It is not n ry to repeat the evidence given in this trial, 

which lasted from August 7th to September 7th, and with which ti 
is sufficiently familiar. It will suffice to say that the evidence against Drey- 
fus was of the most shadowy and uncertain character, being largely conjec- 
tures and opinionsof army officers, and seemed insufficient to convict a criminal 
for the smallest offence before an equitable court ; that the evidence in his 
favor was of the strongest character; that the proceedings a Second 

: of the loos icription ; that much favorable evidence Condemna- 

was ruled out by the judges, the presiding judge throughout ,on 
showing a bias against the accused ; and that the trial ended in a conviction 
of the prisoner, l>y a vote of five judges to two, the verdict being the ex- 
traordinary one of "guilt\- of treason, with extenuating circumstances" — as 
if any 1 1 could lie extenuated. 

This is but an outline sketch of this remarkable which embraced 

many circumstances favorable to Dreyfus which we have not had space to 
give. The verdict was received by the world outside of France with 
universal astonishment and condemnation, ddie opinion was everywhere 
expressed that not a particle of incriminating evidence had been adduced, 
and that the members of the court-martial had acted virtually under the 
commands of their superior officers, who held that the "honor of the army" 
demanded a conviction. Dreyfus was thought by many to have been made 
a victim to shield certain criminals of high importance in the army, which 
so dominated French opinion that the great bulk of the people pro- 
nounced in favor of the sacrifice of this innocent victim to 
the Moloch of the French military system. It was widely 'f . or 

} J Opinion 

felt in foreign lands that the great development of mili- 
tarism in France, and the vast influence of the general staff of the army, 
formed a threatening feature of the governmental system, which might 
at any time overthrow the republic and form a military empire upon its 
ruins. Two republics have already been brought to an end in France 
through the supremacy of the army, and the safety of the third is far from 
assured. The Dreyfus case has thrown a flood of light upon the volcanic 
condition of affairs in France. 

The general condemnation of this example of French "justice" by 
the press of other nations, and very probably the recognition by the 
governing powers of France of the inadequacy of the evidence led, shortly 
after the conclusion of the court-martial, to the pardon of the con- 
demned, ddie sentence of the court in no si *1 his | 1 he- 
fore the world, he being looked upon everywhere outside of France as a 
victim of injustice instead of a criminal. The severity of his imprisonment 



294 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 

however, had seriously affected his health, and threatened to bring his life to 
an end before he could obtain the justice which he proposed to seek in the 
courts of France. 

This remarkable case, which made an obscure officer of the French army 
the most talked-of and commiserated man among all the peoples of the 
earth, at the end of the nineteenth century, is of further interest from the 
light it throws upon the legal system of France as compared with that of 
Anglo-Saxon nations. Dreyfus, it is true, was tried by court-martial, but the 
procedure was similar to that of the ordinary French courts, in which trial 
by jury does not exist, the judge having the double function of deciding 
upon the guilt or innocence of the accused and passing sentence ; while 
efforts are made to induce the prisoner to incriminate himself which would 
be considered utterly unjust in British and American legal practice. The 
French legal system is a direct descendant of that of ancient Rome. The 
British one represents a new development in legal methods. Doubtless both 
have their advantages, but the Dreyfus trial seems to indicate that the sys< 
tern of France opens the way to acts of barbarous injustice. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Paul Kruger and the Struggle for Dominion in 

South Africa. 

AT the close "1 the nineteenth century, not the least important among 
the international questions that were disturbing the nations was the 
controversy between the English and the Boers in South Africa, 
concerning" the political privileges of the Uitlanders, or foreign gold miners 
of the Transvaal. A consideration of this subject obliges us to go back 
to the beginning oi the century and review the whole history of coloniza 
tion in South Africa. 

That region belongs by right of settlement to the Dutch, who found.-.', 
a colony in the region of Capetown as early as 1650, and in 
the succeeding century and a half spread far and wide over settlement in 
the territory, their farms and cattle ranches occupying a very South Africa 
wide are, 1. The first interference with their peaceful occupation came in 
1795, when the English took possession. In 1800, however, they restored 
the colony to Holland, which held it in peaceable ownership until the Con- 
gress of Vienna, in 1815, came to disturb the map of Europe, and in a meas- 
ure that of the world. As part of the distribution of spoils among the 
great nations. Cape Colony was ceded to Great Britain. Since then that 

countrv, which has a ''feat faculty of taking hold and a very 

• ,-,•,,,; ■ ,, j Ore"* Britain In 

poor faculty oi letting go, has held possi ssion, and has pushed capeColony 

steadily northward until British South Africa is now a terri- andtheEml- 
tory ^i enormous extent, stretching northward to the borders h™.,!"" " 
of the Congo Free Stat.- and to Lake Tanganyika. 

This vast territory has not been gained without active and persistent 
aggn ssion, from which the Dutch settlers, known as Boers, and the African 
natives have alike suffered. In truth, the Boers found the oppression of 
British rule an intolerable burden early in the century, and in 1S40 a great 
party of them gave up their farms and " treked " northward —that is, traveled 
with their ox -teams and belonging ;et away from British con- 

trol. Here they founded a republic of their own on the river Vaul, and 
settled down again to peace and prosperity 



296 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRICA 

The country in which they settled was a huntsman's paradise. On the 

great plains of the High Veldt or plateau (from 4,000 to 7,000 feet in 

height) antelopes of several species roamed in tens of thousands. In the 

valleys and plains of the low country the giraffe, elephant, 

A Huntsman's Du ff a i lion and other lame animals were plentiful. The 
Paradise . ° . 

rivers were full of alligators and hippopotami. Here the new- 
comers found abundance of food, and a land of such pastoral wealth that 
the farm animals they brought increased abundantly. For years a steady 
stream of Boers continued to enter and settle in this land, deserting their 
farms in the British territory, harnessing their cattle to their long, lumber- 
ing wagons, and bringing with them food for the journey, and a good 
supply of powder and lead for use in their tried muskets. Their active 
hunting experience brought them in time to rank among the best marks- 
men in the world. 

They had not alone wild animals to deal with, but wild men as well. 
Fierce tribes of natives possessed the land, and with these the Boers were 
soon at war. A number of sanguinary battles were fought, with much 
The Boers slaughter on both sides, but in the end the black men were 

Drive Out forced to give way to the whites and cross the Limpopo River 
into Matabeleland, to the north, which their descendants still 
occupy. Others of the natives were subdued and continued to live with the 
Boers. The latter were essentially pioneers. They did not till the soil, 
but divided up the land into great grazing ran p- es covered with their 

r 0000' 

abundant herds. And they had no instinct for trade, what little commerce 
the country possessed falling into British hands. 

Two settlements were made, one between the Orange and the Vaal 
rivers, and the other north of the Vaal. The former had much trouble 
with the British previous to 1854, in which year it was given its indepen- 
dence. It is known as the Orange River Free State. The latter was given 
The South Afri- tne name OI Transvaal, and originally formed four separate 
can Republic republics, but in i860 these united into one under the title 
of the South African Republic. The settlers were for a time 
covered with the shadow of British sovereignty, the claims of the British 
extending up to the 25th degree of latitude. But this claim was only on paper, 
and in 1852 it was withdrawn, Great Britain formally renouncing all rights 
over the country north of the Vaal. And for years afterwards the Boers 
lived on here free and undisturbed. 

But their country possessed other wealth than that of pasture lands, 
and its hidden treasures were to yield them no end of trouble in the 
years to come. Under their soil lay untold riches, which in time brought 



PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN S0UTL1 AFR1 297 

s of unruly strangers to disturb their pastoral peace The trouble 
in in 1867, -when diamonds were found in the vicinity of the Vaal River, 

and a rush ol miners began to invade this remote district. 

But the diamond mines lay west of the borders of the Th ® ™ scove, "y 

of Diamonds 

Transvaal, and brought rather a threatening situation than 

immediate disturbance to the Boer state. It was the later discovery of gold 
on Transvaal territory' that eventually overthrew the quiet content of the 
pastoral community. 

In 1877 the first intrusion came. The British were now abundant in 
Griqualand West, the diamond region, and on the Transvaal borders 
lay a host of native enemies, chief among them being the warlike Zulus, 
led by the bold and daring Cetewayo. Only fear of the British kept 
this truculent chief at rest. Meanwhile thi Republic had fallen 

into a financial collapse. Its frequent wars with the natives had ex- 
hausted its revenues and thrown it deeply into A SnepstoIle ' S 
serious crisis seemed impending. On the plea ol preventing Annexation of 
this, Sir Theophilus 5 e, secretary of Natal, made his the Transvaal 
way to Pretoria, the capital of the republic, and issued a proclamation 
annexing the Transvaal country to Great Britain. The public treasury he 
found to be almost empty, it containing only I .hillings and six pence, 
and even part of this was counterfeit coin. His act was arbitrary and unwar- 
ranted, and while the- Boers submitted, they did so with sullen anger, 
quietly biding their time. 

In the following year the Zulus, who hid been threatening the I; 
broke out into war with the British, and with such 1 iutes 

were at first repulsed by the impetuous Cetewayo and his warlike followers. 
In this onset Prince Napoleon, son of the d I emperor Louis Xapo- 

leon, who served as a volunteer in the British ranks, was killed. '1 he British 
soon retrieved the disaster, and in the end decisively debated The2u | uWar 
the Zulus, capturing their king, who was taken as a prisoner 
to London. After the Zulu war Sii < ..irnet Wolseley led his troops into the 
Transvaal, telling the protestin ; that "solo the' sun shone and 

the Vaal River flowed to the sea the Transvaal would remain British terri- 
tory." Other acts of interference, and the attempt of the British officials 
to tax the Boers, added to their exasperation, and at the vnd of 1880 they 
resolved to fight for the independence of which they had been rob 
Wolseley had before this left the territory, and the troops had been redu 
to a few detachments, and tin 

1 ',; first ho lion took place on December 20. 1880, a detachment 

of the Ninety-fourth regiment, on its march to Pretoria, being waylaid by a 



293 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRICA 

body of about 150 armed Boers, who ordered them to stop. Colonel Ans- 
truther curtly replied : " I go to Pretoria ; do as you like:" The Boers 
did more than he liked. They closed in on his columns and 
Boers * opened on them so deadly a fire that the British fell at a fright- 
ful rate. Out of 259 in all, 155 had fallen dead or wounded 
in ten minutes' time. Then the colonel, himself seriously wounded, ordered 
a surrender, and the Boers at once became as friendly as they had just been 
hostile. They had lost only two killed and five wounded. 

As soon as news of this disaster reached Natal, Colonel Sir George 
Colley, in command at Natal, marched against the Boers without waiting 
for reinforcements, the force at his disposal being but 1,200 men. He paid 
dearly for his temerity and contempt of the enemy. On January 28, 1881, 
he was encountered by the Boers at a place called Lang's Nek, and met with 
a bloody defeat. In about a week afterwards another engagement took 
place, in which the British lost 139 officers and men, while the whole Boer 
loss was 14. Practised hunters, their fire was so deadly that almost every 
shot found its mark. 

The war was going badly for the British. It was soon to go worse. 

Receiving reinforcements, Colley made a stand in an elevated position 

known as Majuba Hill, whose summit was 2,000 feet above the positions 

held by the Boers and its ascent so steep and rugged that the 

Majuba Hill soldiers had to climb it in single file. Near the top of the 

ascent the grassy slopes were succeeded by boulders, crags, 

and loose stones, over which the weary men had to drag themselves on hands 

and knees. In this way about 400 men gained the summit on the morning 

of February 27th. The top of the hill was a saucer-shaped plateau, about 

1,200 yards wide, with an elevated rim within which the British were 

posted. 

The place seemed impregnable, but the daring Boers did not hesitate 
in the attack. A force of the older men were detailed to keep on the watch 
below — picked shots ready to fire on any soldier who should appear on the rim 
of the hill. The younger men began to climb the slopes, under cover of the 
shrub and stones. The assault was made on every side, and the defenders, 
too weak in numbers to hold the whole edge of the plateau, had to be moved 
from point to point to meet and attempt to thwart the attacks of the Boers. 
Slowly and steadily the hostile skirmishers clambered upwards from cover 
to cover, while the supports below protected their movement with a steady 
and accurate fire. During the hours from dawn to noon the British did not 
suffer very heavily, notwithstanding the accuracy of the Boer marksmanship. 
But the long strain of the Boers' close shooting began to tell on the morale of 



PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN // AFR/< 

theBriti h oldiers, and win t the enemy at length reached tl ned 

a deadl) liort range the officers had to exert themselves to the inmost 

in th< to avert disaster. Tin stationed in the central di 

the plateau, out of reach until then of the enemy's Tire, were ordered up in 
support of the fighting line. Their want of promptitude in obeying this 
did not augur well r reaching the front they wavered, and 

then v. The officers temporarily succeeded in rallying them, but the 

'bolt" had a bad effect. To use the expression of an eye-witness, a "funk 

ne established." 

It was struggled against very gallantly by tin- officers, who d and 

ver in hand, aged tin: soldiers byword and by action. A num- 

tinable to confront the deadly fire of the Boers, had hud. 
for cover behind the rocky reef crossing the plateau, and no The Bocrs 
entr upbraiding on the part of their officers would Storm the 

induce them to face- the enemy. What then happened one 8 mp 

not care to tell in detail. Everything connected with this disastrous 
enterprise went to naught, as if there had keen a curs.- on it. Whatever 
may have been the object intended, the force employed was absurdly inade- 
quate. Instead vi being homogeneous, it consisted of separate detach- 
ments with no link or bond of union — a disposition of troops which notoriously 
has led to more panics than any other cause that the annals of regimental his- 
tory can furnish. Fragments of proud and distinguished regiments fresh 
from victory on another continent shared in the panic of the Majuba, 

med warriors behaving no better than mere recruits. To the calm- 
1 philosopher a panic is an academic enigma. No man who has 
it — much less shared in it — can e\ et the infectious madness of panic- 

stricken sokh> 

In the sad ending, witli a cry of fright and despair tin- remnants of the 
hapl'-ss l^rn: turned and fled, regardless of the efforts of the officers to 
stem the rearward rush. Sir I olley lay dead, shot through the 

head just before the final flight. A surgeon ami two hospital attendants 
caring for the wounded at the bandaging place in the dip of 
the plateau were shot down, probably inadvertently. The elder iho 'iio'-r-, " 
Boers promptly stopped the tiring in that direction. But 
there wa ssation of the tire directed on the fugitives. < >n them the 

bullets rained accurately and persistently. The Boers, now disdaining 

:-. stood boldly on ; the plateau, and, firing down upon the 

scared troops, picked off the men as if shooting game. The slaughter would 
have been yet heavier but for the entrenchment which had been made 
by the company of the Ninety-second, left overnight on the Xek. bet 



3 oo PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH A ERICA 

the Inquela and the Majuba. Captain Robertson was joined at dawn from 

camp by a company of the Sixtieth, under Captain Thurlow. Later there 

arrived at the entrenchment on the Nek a troop of the Fifteenth Hussars, 

under the command of Captain Sullivan. After midday the sound of the 

firing on the Majuba rapidly increased, and men were seen running down 

the hill towards the laager, one of whom brought in the tidings that the 

Boers had captured the position, that most of the troops were killed or 

prisoners, and that the o-eneral was dead with a bullet through his head. 

Wounded men presently came pouring in, and were attended by 

Surgeon-Major Cornish. The laager was manned by the companies, and 

outposts were thrown out, which were soon driven in by large bodies of 

mounted Boers, under whose fire men fell fast Robertson dispatched the 

rifle company down the ravine towards the camp, and a little later followed 

with the company of the Ninety-second under a murderous fire from the 

Boers, who had reached and occupied the entrenchment. The Highlanders 

An -ci- u* l° st heavily in the retreat, and Surgeon-Major Cornish was 
A Panic Flight J ' ... 

killed. The surviving fugitives from Majuba and from the 
laager finally reached camp under cover of the artillery fire from it, which 
ultimately stopped the pursuit. With the consent of the Boer leaders a 
temporary hospital was established at a farm-house near the foot of the 
mountain, and throughout the cold and wet night the medical staff never 
ceased to search for and bring in the wounded. Sir George Colley's body 
was brought into camp on March ist, and buried there with full military 
honors. 

Of 650 officers and men who took part in this disastrous affair the loss 
in killed, wounded, and prisoners was 283 ; the Boers had one man killed 
and five wounded. Majuba Hill was enough for the British, fighting as 
they were in an unjust cause. An armistice was agreed upon, followed by 
a treaty of peace on March 23d. Large reinforcements had been sent out, 
which would have given the British an army of 20,000 against the 8,000 
Peace Declared Boers capable of bearing arms ; but to fight longer in defence 
with British of an arbitrary invasion against such brave defenders of their 
homes and their rights, did not appeal to the conscience of 
Mr. Gladstone, and he lost no time in bringing the war to an end. By the 
terms of the treaty the Boers were left free to govern themselves as they 
would, they acknowledging the queen as suzerain of their country, with 
control of its foreign relations. 

The next important event in the history of the Transvaal was the ex- 
ploitation of its gold mines. Gold was discovered there soon after the open- 
ing of the diamond mines, but not under very promising conditions. It exists 



3 ' 


*? 








u 


^yj^^^^ 


















* 






a • * 


to \ 



' 




THE BATTLE OF MAJUBA HILL, BETWEEN THE ENGLISH AND BOERS. SOUTH AFRICA 

The greatest disaster ever experienced by the British in A . in the South African Rrpublic. In tn* war 

3o8i with the B upied the flat i i, but was driven oat will 

tgbter The attempt the hill in tl Icsmen was simply 

a climb to death, ana »he ttay ended in a serious defeat for the invaders. 



PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE /.', .'/ AFRICA 303 

: ntv by forty 

miles, and th 1 .1 depth ol from two I 

I ire the richness in metal of these rocks was discovered, The Gold Dte. 
and ii was not until after the Boer war that mining fairly glngsofthe 

an. No one in his wildest dreams foresaw that Transvaal 

"banket" beds would in time yield gold to the value of more than $80,000,- 

year. The yield of the diamond mines was also enormous, and tl 
two incitements brought a steady stream oi new si to that re 

destined before many years greatly to outnumber the sturdy fanners and 
herders of Dutch descent. 

In the vicinity ol the gold mines, not far from Pretoria, the Boer capi- 
tal, rose the mining city of Johannesburg, which now has a population of 
more than 100,000 souls, of whom hall are European miners and nearly all 
the remainder are natives. lh history of the 

md mines was the advent thither of Cecil Rhodes. This Cecil Rhodes 
remarkable man, the son of a countrj I .land, who 

was ordered to South Africa lor the !• f his failing lung lyed 

such enterprise and ability that he soon became the leading figure in the dia- 
amond mining industry, organizing a company that controlled the mines, and 
accumulating an immense fort' 

This accomplished, he I actively into South African politics, and 

was not long in immensely extending the dominion of Great Britain in that 
region of the earth. He ol from Lord Salisbury, prime minister of 

Great Britain, a royal charter giving him tl upy and govern tin: 

jreat territory lying between the Limpopo River on the south and the Zam- 
»esi on tin- north, and extending far to the north 1 iuth 

African Republic. With an expedition of a thousand men, volunteers from 
.he Transvaal and the C ilony, Rhodes marched north thro oun- 

:ry tilled with armed Zulus, -the best fighting stuff in Afr lied 

pot where now stands the flourishing town of Fort Salisbury without 
a shot or losing a man. 1 be -nines were opened, the r< 

?f the country developed, and within three years as many important town- 
ships w.re founded anil settled. 

Not until July. 1893, ^'' ( ' trouble with the natives arise. Then a ruptu 
.00k place with the Matabele chief, Lobengula, who s inst tin- wh 

>owerful bands of his dreaded Zulu warriors, numbering in 

11 , , , , -11 1 ix 1 War Willi t hi- 

ll 1 over 20,000 armed blacks. I hi se were met by I )r. Jameson. Matabeles 

.he administrator of the charter, d territory, and dealt with so 

lusly and skilfully that in two months the power of the Matabeles wa 

in end, their army was practically annihilated, their great kraals were occup 



304 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRICA 

and their king was driven from his capital into the desert, where he died two 

months later. Thus Cecil Rhodes added to the dominion of Great Britain 

a territory as large as France and Germany, very fertile and healthful, and 

rich in gold and other metals. 

Zambesia — or Rhodesia, as it is often called — now extends far to the 

„. _. . north of the Zambesi River, being bordered on the north bv 

The Domain of & J 

the South the Congo Free State and Lake Tanganyika, and on the east 

African D y L a l ce Nyassa, and embracing the heart of South Africa. 

This territory was chartered in 1889 by the British South 

Africa Company, with Cecil Rhodes, then premier of the Cape Colony, as 

its managing director and practical creator. 

The rapid development of British interests in South Africa, the acqui- 
sition of territory in great part surrounding the South African Republic, — 
which was completely cut off from the sea by British and Portuguese terri- 
tory, — and the growth of a large foreign population on the soil of the 
republic itself, could not fail to be a source of great annoyance to the Boers, 
who deeply mistrusted their new neighbors. Their effort to get away from 
the British had been a failure. They were surrounded and overrun by 
them. It is true, the coming of the gold miners had been a great boon to 

„„ „. . the Boer in one way. From having an empty treasury, he had 

What the J ° r J J 

Foreigners now an overflowing one. The tax on the gold product had 
Brought to made the government rich. The foreigners had also brought 
the railway, the electric light, the telegraph, cheap and 
abundant articles of every-day use, newspapers, schools, and other append- 
ages of civilization, but it is doubtful if these were as welcome to the Boers 
as the cash contribution, since they tended to break up their simple, patri- 
archal style of living and destroy their time-honored customs. 

The question that particularly troubled the Boer mind was a political 
one. Paul Kruger, the president of the republic, was a man of remarkable 
character, an astute statesman, a shrewd politician, with an iron will and 
keen judgment, a personage strikingly capable of dealing with a disturbing 
situation. While ignorant in book lore, he had associated with him as 

o 

secretary of state an educated Hollander, Dr. Leyds by name, one of the 
ablest and shrewdest statesmen in South Africa. The pair of them were a 
Paul Kruger close match for the bold and aspiring Cecil Rhodes, then 
and the uit= premier of the Cape Colony. The difficulty they had to deal 
landers with was the following : The Uitlander (Outlander or foreign) 

element in the republic had grown so enormously as far to outnumber the 
Dutch. The country presented the anomaly of a minority of 15,000 igno- 
rant and unprogressive Dutch burghers ruling a majority of four or five 



PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRh 305 

their number of educated, wealthy and prosper hile 

ig the most valuable pari of the territory, iven no voice in 

its government. They were not only deprived of legislative functions in the 

country at large, but also of municipal functions in the city oi their nun 

ion, and they demanded in vain a charter that would enable them to 
control and improve their own city. President Krug ing to liavi 

rnment overwhelmed by these Anglo-Saxon strangers, sternly deter- 
mined that they should have no political foothold in his state until afti 
long residence, forseeing that if they were given the franchise on easy terms 
they would soon control the state. In this sense the gold which was making 
them rich seemed a curse to the Boers, since it threatened to bring them 
in under the dominion of the hated Englishman. 

In 1 S95 the state of affairs reached a critical point. The British in 
Matabeleland, north of the Transvaal, were in warm sympathy with their 
brethren in fohannesburg, and n them a plot was laid to overthrow 

Kruger and his people. An outbreak to n Johannesburg, led by 

Colonel F. W. Rhodes, brother of Cecil Rhodes, by whom it was thought 
to have been ii :d. It was quickly followed by an invasion from 

Matabeleland, led by Dr. L. S. fameson, Cecil Rhodes' lieu- 
tenant in that region. The movement was a hasty and * * me 
ill-considered one. The invaders were met by the bold Boers, 
armed with their unerring rifles, were surrounded and force,! to surrender, 
and their leaders \wxv put on trial for their lives. 

Paul Kruger, however, was shrewd enough not to push the matter to 
extremities. Jameson and his confederates were set at liberty and allowed 
to return to England, where they were tried, convicted of invading a friendly 
country and imprisoned — Cecil Rhodes going free. This daring man 
after suppressed an extensive revolt of the Matabeles, and gained the 
reputation ol designing to foun onality in South Al 

At a latei date he devised the magni me of building a railroad 

throughout the whole length of Africa, from Cairo to Ca] ' on y, and 
thnw himself into this ambitious enterprise with all his aci ustomed energy 
and organizing capacity. 

The victory of the Boers over [ameson and his raiders did not bring 
to an end the strained relations in Johannesburg. The demand of the 
Uitlanders for political rights and privile ew more The Demands 

earnest and insistant as time went on, and the British govern- of theUlt- 
ment, on the basis of its suzerainty, began to take a hand 
in it. The right to vote, m- tain stringent conditions as to period 

of re and declaration of intention to become citizens, i\ rded 



3o6 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRICA 

by the Boer government, but was far from satisfactory to the foreign resi- 
dents, who demanded the suffrage under less rigorous conditions. 

In (899 the state of affairs became critical, England taking a more 
decided stand, and strongly pressing her claim to a voice in the status of 
British residents under her suzerainty — despite the fact that the latter gave 
her no right to interfere in the domestic affairs of the state. Joseph Cham- 
berlain, secretary of state for the colonies, demanded a more equitable 
arrangement than that existing, and his insistence led to a conference 
between the Boer authorities and those of Cape Colony. But President 
Kruger refused to yield to the full demands made upon him, while the con- 
cessions which he offered were not satisfactory to the British cabinet. 

Negotiations went on during the summer and early autumn of 1899, 
but at the same time both sides were actively preparing for war, and Great 
Britain had begun to send large contingents of troops to South Africa. The 
state of indecision came to a sudden end on October 10th. President 
Kruger apparently fearing that Joseph Chamberlain, who conducted the 
negotiations, was deceiving him, and seeking delay until he could land an 
overwhelming force in South Africa, sent a sudden ultimatum to the British 
cabinet. They were bidden to remove the troops which threatened the 
borders of his state before five o'clock of the next day or accept war as 
the alternative. 

Such a mandate from a weak to a strong state was not likely to be com- 
plied with. The troops were not removed, and the Boers promptly crossed 
the borders into Natal on the east and Cape Colony on the west. The 
Orange River Free State had joined the South African Republic in its 
attitude of hostility, and the British on the borders found themselves out- 
numbered and outgeneraled. The towns of Mafeking and Kimberley on 
the west were closely besieged, and on the east the outlying troops were 
driven back on Ladysmith, where General White, the British commander, 
met with a severe repulse, losing two entire regiments as prisoners. 

Meanwhile General Buller, the British commander-in-chief, had reached 
Cape Town and a powerful army was on the ocean, and it was widely felt 
that the successes of the Boers were but preliminaries to a desperate strug- 
gle whose issue only time could decide. 

General White had made a serious tactical error in seeking to hold 
Ladysmith instead of falling back to the coast to await reinforcements. The 
neatly devised plan of operations of the British army was greatly deranged, 
and General Buller, who had counted on a triumphal march to the Transvaal 
border, found himself held fast at the Tugela River, whose group of steep 
and rugged hills served the Boers as so many natural forts, from which the 



/'. tl 7, AVvV 'GER . 1ND THE STRl r GGLE IN Si K '77/ . I/'A7< I 307 

British found it impossible to dislodge them. It had been supposed that 
the Boers were adapted only to warfare of the guerilla character, that of 
bold raids, sudden dashes and swift retreats, but this event proved them to 
be skillful in investment, stubborn in defence, and fertile in expedients. 

An attempt to cross the Tugela at Colenso proved a sanguinary failure, 
the troops being repulsed and a battery of guns lost. Buller met with other 

its, the most serious being that on the hilltop called Spion Kop. Mean- 
while General White held on obstinately to Ladysmith, 
though he had to contend, not. only against the gruns of the Ge "t r . al , 

fc> J & & White's 

enemy, but against sparse food, unwholesome water, and Operations 

threatening pestilence. Despite all these he defended him- 
self with unflinching courage against the guns and the assaults of the 
enemy for four long months, at the end of which time he was rewarded 
by a sudden disappearance of the foe, and the welcome entrance of Lord 
Dundonald and his troop of cavalry. Operations elsewhere had forced 
the brave Joubert to give up the siege and withdraw with his men. Those 
distant operations now demand our attention. 

Far away from Ladysmith, on the opposite side of the Orange Free 
State, lies the town of Kimberley, the centre of the diamond mining industry. 
Among its inmates was Cecil Rhodes, the diamond magnate, and the invest- 
ing Boers were even more eager to capture their hated foe than to fall heir 
to the rich products of the diamond mines. To the relief of Kimberly 
came Lord Methuen, with a strong force, hastening by rail from Capetown 
north. From the Orange to the Modder River he made his way by dint of 
a succession of fierce skirmishes, in which the Boers gave a very good 
account of themselves. His misfortunes culminated at Magersfontein, on 
the Modder River, where his army fell into a Boer trap and was defeated 
with a loss of nearly 1,100 men. This was the most serious battle of the war. 

By this time the government of Great Britain was thoroughly alarmed. 
Instead of the easy victory that had been looked for, it began 
to appear as if the courage, skill, and military resources of the contingency 
Boers might yield them an eventual triumph, and Kruger and 
Joubert be able to drive the invaders from their native soil. This was a 
contingency which British pride could not accept. Strenuous efforts were 
made to raise and equip a great force, and early in 1900 Field-Marshal 
Lord Roberts and the gallant General Kitchener, the two most famous 
soldiers that England possessed, were sent to the front, Lord Roberts as 
commander-in-chief. Under them was the largest army which Great 
Britain had ever dispatched to a foreign soil. 



3 o8 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH A ERICA 

It was too powerful a force for the small population of the Boer republics 
successfully to oppose. The abundant cavalry under Lord Roberts enabled 
him to Hank his opponents at every point, and the stubborn resistance of the 
Boers was changed to a rapid retreat. A sudden dash of General French 
and his light cavalry freed Kimberley, and the diamond capital was entered 
by the swift horsemen on February 1 6th, much to the relief of Cecil Rhodes 
and the distressed people, who had suffered severely during the siege. 

General Cronje, at the head of the Boer besieging force, hurried away 
as fast as his slow-moving ox teams would permit, but the pursuit was so hot 
and rapid that he was headed off and forced to take refuge in a dry river 
bed. Here he made a vigorous fight for life. For ten days he desperately 
held out, with a gallant persistance that won the plaudits of the world, and 
surrendered only when death stared him and his followers in the face. It 
was this surrender that forced Joubert to raise the siege of Ladysmith. 

From this point Roberts' great army swept resistlessly onward, the enemy 

vanishing before it, and on March 13 it made a triumphant 

T '!? y ra " svaal entry into Bloemfontein, the capital of the Orange River 
Entered J L ° 

Free State. Two clays afterwards the town of Mafeking, in 
which the valiant Colonel Baden-Powell and his gallant followers had 
made one of the most memorable defences of modern times, was relieved — 
none too soon, for starvation was almost at hand. 

In early June the final great success was won. In May Roberts put his 
men again in motion, the Vaal River was passed and the Transvaal entered, 
and the mining city of Johannesburg fell without a blow. With it the gold 
mines, the impelling motive of the war, and which it was feared would be 
blown up and destroyed, were won. Finally Pretoria, the Transvaal capital, 
which was said to be strongly fortified and abundantly provisioned, and 
where the last dying struggle of Paul Kruger and his countrymen was 
looked for, fell into British hands, the Boers and their government 
taking precipitately to flight. 

This conquest practically closed the drama of the war. Some daring 
raids on the British lines were made, but the Boer armies had vanished and 
there was every indication that their power of resistance was almost at an 
end. The great British army rapidly closed in on them, and little remained 
but to let fall the curtain of fate on the Boer republics, and raise it again over 
a British colony extending without a break from Capetown in the south to 
the Congo Free State in the north. 




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CHAPTER XX 
The Rise of Japan and the Decline of China. 

ASIA, the greatest ol the continents and the seat of the earliest civiliza- 
tions, yields us the most remarkable phenomenon in the history of 
mankind. In remote ages, while Europe lay plunged in the deepest 
barbarism, certain sections of Asia were marked by surprising activity in 
thought and progress. In three; far-separated regions — China, India, and 
Babylonia — and in a fourth on the borders of Asia— Egypt Asia the Origl- 
— civilization rose and flourished for ages, while the savage nal Seat of 
and the barbarian roamed over all other regions of the earth. v za on 

A still more extraordinary fact is, that during the more era, that of 

European civilization, Asia has rested in the most sluggish conservatism, 
sleeping while Europe and America were actively moving, content with its 
ancient knowledge while the people of the West were pursuing new knowl- 
edge into its most secret lurking places. 

And this conservatism is an almost immovable one. For a century 
England has been pouring new thought ami new enterprise into India, yet 
the Hindoos cling stubbornly to their remotely ancient beliefs and customs. 
For half a century Europe has been hammering upon the gates of China, 
but the sleeping nation shows little signs of waking up to the fact that the 
world is moving around it. As regards the other early civili- The siuggish- 
/ations— Babylonia and Egypt — -they have been utterly ness <>f riod- 
swamped under the tide of Turkish barbarism and exist only ern ' s 
in their ruins. , once a great and flourishing empire, has likewise 

sunk under tin- flood of Arabian and Turkish invasion, and to-day, under its 
ruling Shah, is one of the most inert of nations, steeped in the self-satisfied 
barbarism that has succeeded its old civilization. Such was the Asia upon 
which the nineteenth century dawned, and such it remains to-da pt in 

one remote section of its area, in which alone modern civilization has gained 

a firm foothold. 

The section referred to is the island empire of Japan, a nation the people 
of which are closely allied in race to those of China, yet which has displayed 
a progressiveness and a readiness to avail itself of the resources of modern 
civilization strikingly diverse from the obstinate conservatism of its dei 
: 7 309 



310 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 

settled neighbor. The development of Japan has taken place within the 
The Seclusion past half century. Previous to that time it was as resistant 
of China to western influences as China. They were both closed na- 

an japan tions, prohibiting the entrance of modern ideas and peoples, 
proud of their own form of civilization and their own institutions, and sternly 
resolved to keep out the disturbing influences of the restless west. As a 
result, they remained locked against the new civilization until after the 
nineteenth century was well advanced, and China's disposition to avail itself 
of the results of modern invention was not manifested until the century 
was near its end. 

China, with its estimated population of nearly 400,000,000, attained to 
a considerable measure of civilization at a very remote period, but has made 
almost no progress during the Christian era, being content to retain its old 
ideas, methods and institutions, which its people look upon as far superior 
to those of the western nations. Great Britain gained a foot- 
of China hold in China as early as the seventeenth century, but the per- 

sistent attempt to flood the country with the opium of India, 
in disregard of the laws of the land, so annoyed the emperor that he had the 
opium of the British stores at Canton, worth $20,000,000, seized and de- 
stroyed. This led to the "opium war" of 1840, in which China was defeated 
and was forced to accept a much greater degree of intercourse with the 
world, five ports being made free to the world's commerce and Hong Kong 
ceded to Great Britain. In iS56an arbitrary act of the Chinese authorities 
at Canton, in forcibly boarding a British vessel in the Canton River, led to a 
new war, in which the French joined the British and the allies gained fresh con- 
cessions from China. In 1859 tne war was renewed, and Peking was occu- 
pied by the British and French forces in i860, the emperor's summer palace 
being destroyed. 

These wars had their effect in largely breaking down the Chinese wall 
of seclusion and opening the empire more fully to foreign trade and inter- 
course, and also in compelling the emperor to receive foreign ambassadors 
at his court in Peking- In this the United States was among the most sue- 
cessful of the nations, from the fact that it had always maintained friendly 
relations with China. In 1876 a short railroad was laid, and in 1877 a telegraph 
line was established. During the remainder of the century the telegraph 
service was widely extended, but the building of railroads was strongly op- 
posed, and not until the century had reached its end did the Chinese awaken 
to the importance of this method of transportation. They did, however, 
admit steam traffic to their rivers, and purchased some powerful ironclad 
naval vessels in Europe. 



THE RISE OF JAPA \ AND THE DECLINE OF < 7/, 311 

The isolation ol Japan was maintained longer than that of China. 
trade with that country being ol less importance, and foreign nations know- 
ing and caring less about it. The United States has the credit of breaking 
down its long and stubborn seclusion and setting in train the HowJapanWas 
remarkably rapid development of the Japanese island empire. Opened to 
In [854 Commodore Perry appeared with an American fleet Commerce 
in the bay of Yeddo, and, by a show of force and a determination not to be 
rebuffed, he forced the authorities to make a treaty of commercial inter- 
course with the United States. Other nations quickly demanded similar 
privileges, and J obstinate resistance to foreign intercourse was at an 

end. 

1 he result of this was revolutionary in Japan. For centuries the Shogun, 
or Tycoon, the principal military noble, had been dominant in the empire, 
and the Mikado, the true emperor, relegated to aposition of obscurity. The 
entrance of foreigners disturbed conditions so greatly -by devi par- 

ties for and against seclusion — that the Mikado was enabled to regain his 
long-1 ver, and in 1868 the ancient form of iment was restored. 

Meanwhile the fapane in to show a striking activity in the accept- 

ance of the results of western civilization, both in regard to obji ■ ts of com- 
merce, inventions, and industries, and to politi anization. The latter 
advance* pidly that in [88q the old despotic grovernmenl 

, . , - . -ii Great Develop- 

was, by thi- voluntary act ol the emperor, set aside and a lim- mentof Japan 

ited monarch)- established, the country being given tu- 

tton and a legislature, with universal suffrage for all men o\ nty-five. 

This act is of remarkable interest, it being doubtful if history records any 
similar instance of a monarch de< his authority without appeal 01' 

ure from his people. It indicates a lib pirit that could hardly 

have been looked for in a nation -, r ging from semi-barbarism. 

To-day, Japan differs little from the nations of Europe and America in its 
institutions ami industries, and from being anion- the most backward, has 
taken its place among the most advano d nations of the world. 

The Japanese army has been organized upon the European sysl 
and armed with the most modern ityle of weapon . th< G rman method of 
drill ami organization being adopted. Its nav\ fifty war 

vessels, principally built in the dock-) 

thi' most advanced modern type, while a number of still more powerful 
ships are in process ol building. Railroads have been widely extended; 
telegraphs run everywhere ; education is in an advancing stage ol develop- 
ment, embracing an imperial university at Tokio, and institutions in which 
foreign languages and science are taught; and in a hundred ways Japan is 



312 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 

progressing at a rate which is one of the greatest marvels of the nineteenth 
century. This is particularly notable in view of the obstinate adherence 
of the neighboring empire of China to its old customs, and the slowness 
with which it is yielding to the influx of new ideas. 

As a result of this difference in progress between the two nations, we 
have to describe a remarkable event, one of the most striking evidences that 
could be given of the practical advantage of modern civiliza- 
Event tion. Near the end of the century war broke out be- 

tween China and Japan, and there was shown to the world the 
singular circumstance of a nation of 40,000,000 people, armed with modern 
implements of war, attacking a nation of 400,000,000 — equally brave, 
but with its army organized on an ancient system — and defeating it 
as quickly and completely as Germany defeated France in the Franco- 
German War. This war, which represents a completely new condition of 
events in the continent of Asia, is of sufficient interest and importance to 
speak of at some length. 

Between China and Japan lies the kingdom of Corea, separated by 
rivers from the former and by a strait of the ocean from the latter, and 
claimed as a vassal state by both, yet preserving its independence as a state 
against the pair. Japan invaded this country at two different periods in the 
past, but failed to conquer it. China has often invaded it, with the same 
result. Thus it remained practically independent until near the end of the 
nineteenth century, when it became a cause of war between the two rival 
empires. 

Corea long pursued the same policy as China and Japan, locking 
its ports against foreigners so closely that it became known as the Hermit 
Corea Opened Nation and die Forbidden Land. But it was forced to give 
to Foreign way, like its neighbors. The opening of Corea was due to 
Japan. In 1876 the Japanese did to this secluded kingdom 
what Commodore Perry had done to Japan twenty-two years before. They 
sent a fleet to Seoul, the Corean capital, and by threat of war forced the 
government to open to trade the port of Fusan. In 1880 Chemulpo was 
made an open port. Later on the United States sent a fleet there which 
obtained similar privileges. Soon afterwards most of the nations of 
Europe were admitted to trade, and the isolation of the Hermit Nation 
was at an end. Less than ten years had sufficed to break down an 
isolation which had lasted for centuries. In less than twenty years after — 
in the year 1899 — an electric trolley railway was put in operation in the 
streets of Seoul — a remarkable evidence of the great change in Corean 
policv 



THE RISE OF JAPAN AND Till WE OF CI IIS A 

Corea was no sooner opened to foreign intercourse than China and 
Japan became rivals for influence in that country — a rivalry in which Japan 
showed itself the more active The Coreans became divided into two 
factions, a progressive one that favored Japan, and a conservative one that 
favored China. Japanese and Chinese soldiers were sent to the country, 
and the Chinese aided their part)', which was in the ascendant among the 
Coreans, to drive out the Japanese troops War was thn , but it v 

averted by a treaty in 1885 under which both nations agreed to withdraw 
their troops and to send no officers to drill tin: C ddiers. 

The war, thus for the time averted, came nine years afterwards, in con- 
sequence of an insurrection in Corea. The people of that country u 
discontented. They were oppressed with taxes and by tyranny, 

and in 1894 the followers of a new religious sect broke out in ,nsu ™" ectlon 

. in Corea 

open revolt. Their numbers rapidly increased until they u 

20,000 strong, and they d< the government troops, captured a provincial 

city, and put the capital itself in danger. The Min (or Chinese^ faction 
was then at the head of affairs in the kingdom and called for aid from 
China, which responded by sending some two thousand troops and a num- 
ber of war to Corea. an, jealous of any such action on the part 
of China, 1 led by surrounding Seoul with soldiers, several thousands 
in number. 

Disputes followed. China claimed to be suzerain of Corea and fapan 
denied it. Both parties refused to withdraw their troops, ami the Japanese, 
finding that the party in power was acting against them, advanced on the 
capital, drove out the officials, and took p on of the palace and the 

king. A new government, made up of the party that favored Japan, was 
organized, and a revolution was accomplished in a day. The new author- 
ities declared that the Chinese were intruders and requested the aid oi the 
Japan* xpel them. War was close at hand. 

China was at that time under the leadership nf . man of marked 

ability, the famous Li Hung Chang, who, from being made viceroy of a 
province in 1870, had risen to be the prime minister of the empire. At the 
head of the empire was a woman, the I I mpress Tsu , ( Mung ChanK 

I si, who had usurped the power of t'he young emperor and and the Em- 
ruled the state. It was : n power that pre * s 

the war was due. The dowager empress, blindly ignorant power 

the Japanese, decided that these " insolent pign . be 

chastised. Li, her right-hand man, was of the same opinion. At the last 
moment, indeed, doubts began to assail his mind, into which came a dim 
idea that the army and navy of China were not in shape to meet the 



314 - : THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 

forces of Japan. But the empress was resolute. Her sixtieth birthday 
was at hand and she proposed to celebrate it magnificently ; and what better 
decorations could she display than the captured banners of these insolent 
islanders ? So it was decided to present a bold front, and, instead of the 
troops of China being removed, reinforcements were sent to the force at Asan. 

There followed a startling event. On July 25th three Japanese men-of- 
war, cruising in the Yellow Sea, came in sight of a transport loaded with 
Chinese troops and convoyed by two ships of the Chinese navy. The 
The Sinking of Japanese admiral did not know of the seizure of Seoul by the 
the Chinese land forces, but he took it to be his duty to prevent Chinese 
troops from reaching Corea, so he at once attacked the war 
ships of the enemy, with such effect that they were quickly put to flight. 
Then he sent orders to the transport that it should put about and follow 
his ships. 

This the Chinese generals refused to do. They trusted to the fact 
that they were on a chartered British vessel and that the British flag flew 
over their heads. The daring Japanese admiral troubled his soul little 
about this foreign standard, but at once opened fire on the transport, and 
with such effect that in half an hour it went to the bottom, carrying with it 
one thousand men. Only about one hundred and seventy escaped. 

On the same day that this terrible act took place on the waters of the 

sea, the Japanese left Seoul en route for Asan. Reaching 

w ' there, they attacked the Chinese in their works and drove 

them out. Three days afterwards, on August 1, 1894, both 

countries issued declarations of war. 

Of the conflict that followed, the most interesting events were those 

that took place on the waters, the land campaigns being an unbroken series 

of successes for the well-organized and amply-armed Japanese troops over the 

mediaeval army of China, which went to war fan and umbrella in hand, with 

antiquated weapons and obsolete organization. The principal battle was 

fought at Ping Yang on September 15th, the Chinese losing 

Land"" 1 6,ooo killed, wounded and captured, while the Japanese loss 

was trifling. In November the powerful fortress of Port 

Arthur was attacked by army and fleet, and surrendered after a two days' 

siege. Then the armies advanced until they were in the vicinity of the 

Great Wall, with the soil and capital of China not far before them. 

With this brief review of the land operations, we must return to the 
performances of the fleets, which were of high interest as forming the sec- 
ond occasion in which a modern ironclad fleet had met in battle — the fivst 
being that already described in which the Austrians defeated the Italians at 



THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DE( LINE OF CHINA 

Lissa. Backward as the Chinese were on land, they were not so on the sea. 
Li Hung Chang, progressive as he was, had vainly attempted to introduce 
railroads into China, but he had been more successful in regard to ships, 
and had purchased a navy more powerful than that of [apan. The heaviest 
ships of Japan were cruisers, whose armor consisted of deck and interior 
lining of steel. The Chih ed two powerful battle- The Chinese 

ships, with 14-inch iron armor and turrets defended with 12- and Japanese 
inch armor, each carrying four 12-inch guns. Both navies had FIee,s 

idvantage of European teaching in drill, tactics, ami seamanship. The 
Ting Yuen, the 1 lip, had as virtual commander an experienced 

German officer named Van Hanneken ; the Chen Yuen, the other big iron- 
clad, was handled by Commander M'Giffen, formerly of the United States 
navy. Thus commanded, it was expected in Europe that the superior 
strength of the Chinese ships would ensure them an easy victory over those 
of Japan. The event showed that this was a decidedly mistaken view. 

It was the superior speed and the large number of rapid-fire guns of 
the Japanes' Is that gave them the victory. The Chinese guns were 

mainly heavy Krupps and Armstrongs. They had also some machine guns, 
but only three quick-firers. The Japanese, on the contrary, had a few hi 
armor-piercing guns, but were supplied with a large number of quick-firing 
cannon, 1 apable of pouring out shells in an incessant stream. Admiral ling 
and ids European officers expected to come at once to close quarters and 
quickly destroy the thin armored Japanese craft. but the shrewd Admiral 
Ito, commander of the fleet of Japan, had no intention of being thus dealt 
with. l'lie speed of his craft enabled him to keep his distance and to dis- 
tract the aim of his foes, and he proposed to make the best use of this ad- 
vantage. Thus equipped the two fleets came together in the month of Sep- 
tember, and an epoch-making battle in the history of the ancient conti- 
nent of Asia was fought. 

On the afternoon of Sunday, September 16th, Admiral ding's fleet, 
consisting of 11 warslu, unboats, and 6 torpedo boats, anchored off 

the mouth of the Yalu River. l'hey were there as escorts to some trans- 
ports, which went up the river to discharge their troops. Admiral Ito had 
been engaged in the same work farther down the coast, and early on Monday 

morning came steaming towards the Yalu in search of the 

'ttii- 11.1 ri The Fleets off 

enemy. Under him were in all twelve ships, none ol them theYaluRiver 

with heavy armor, one ol them an armed transport, ddie 

swiftest ship in the fleet was the Yoshino, capable .,f making twenty-three 

knots, and armed with 44 quick-firing Armstrongs, which would discharge 

v 4,000 pounds weight of shells every minute. The heaviest guns were 



31 6 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 

long 13-inch cannon, of which four ships possessed one each, protected by 12- 
inch shields of steel. Finally, they had an important advantage over the 
Chinese in being abundantly supplied with ammunition. 

With this formidable fleet I to steamed slowly to the north-westward. 
Early on Monday morning he was off the island of Hai-yun-tao. At 
seven a.m. the fleet began steaming north-eastward. It was a fine 
autumn morning. The sun shone brightly, and there was only just enough 
of a breeze to ripple the surface of the water. The long line of warships 
cleaving their way through the blue waters, all bright with white paint, the 
chrysanthemum of Japan shining like a golden shield on every bow, and the 
same emblem flying in red and white from every masthead, must have been 
a grand spectacle. Some miles away to port rose the rocky coast and the blue 
hills of Manchuria, dotted with many an island, and showing here and there 
a little bay with its fishing villages. On the other side, the waters of the 
wide Corean Gulf stretched to an unbroken horizon. Towards eleven 
The Cruise of o'clock the hills at the head of the gulf began to rise. 
Admiral Ito's \x nac j m n j s leading ship, the Yoshino, a cruiser that would 
have made a splendid scout. In any European navy she 
would have been steaming some miles ahead of her colleagues with, perhaps, 
another quick ship between her and the fleet to pass on her signals. Ito 
however seems to have done no scouting, but to have kept his ships in single 
line ahead, with a small interval between the van and the main squadron. At 
half-past eleven smoke was seen far away on the starboard bow, the bearing 
being east-north-east. It appeared to come from a number of steamers in 
line, on the horizon. The course was altered and the speed increased. Ito 
believed that he had the Chinese fleet in front of him. He was riyht. 
The smoke was that of Ting's ironclads and cruisers anchored in line, with 
steam up, outside the mouth of the Yalu. 

On Monday morning the Chinese crews had been exercised at their 
guns, and a little before noon, while the cooks were busy getting dinner 
ready, the lookout men at several of the mastheads began to call out that 
they saw the smoke of a large fleet away on the horizon to the south-west. 
Admiral Ting was as eager for the fight as his opponents. At once he 
signalled to his fleet to weigh anchor, and a few minutes later ran up the 
signal to clear for action. 

A similar signal was made by Admiral Ito half-an-hour later, as his 
ships came in sight of the Chinese line of battle. The actual moment was 
five minutes past noon, but it was not until three-quarters of an hour later 
that the fleets had closed sufficiently near for the fight to begin at long 
range. This three-quarters of an hour was a time of anxious and eager 



THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLIl CHINA 317 

tation for both Chinese and Japanese. Commander McGiffen of the 
Chen Yuen has given a striking description of the scene when " adly 

between the two fleets was narrowing, and all wen- watching for the 
lash and smoke of the first gun : — "The twenty-two ships," he says, "trim 
ind fresh-looking in their paint and their bright new bunting, and gay with 
buttering signal-flags, presented such a holiday aspect th found 

difficulty in realizing that they were not there simply for a friendly meeting. 
But, looking closer on the Chen Yuen, one could eneath this gayety 

much that was sinister. Dark-skinned men, with queues tightly coiled 
round their heads, and with arms bared to the elbow, clustered along the 
Jecks in groups at the gams, waiting impatiently to kill or be The Chinese 
killed. Sand was sprinkled along the decks, and mure was on the "Chen 
kept hand\- against the time when they mil lip- 

; In the superstructures, and down out of sight in the be the 

ship, were men at the shell whips ami ammunition hoists and in the torp 
room. Here and there a man lay flat k, with a charge of powder 

; — fifty pounds or more — in his arms, wail spring up and pass it on 

when it should be wanted. The nerves of the men below deck were in 
extreme tension On deck 1 ling enemy, but below 

nothing was known, save that any moment might begin the action, and 
bring in a shell through the side. Once the battle had begun they 
right; but at first the strain was inl The il >sed on each other 

rapidly. My crew was silent. The sub-lieutenant in the military foretop 
was taking sextant angles and announcing the range, and exhibiting an 
appropriate small signal-flag. As each range was called, the men at the 
guns would lower the si ich gam captain, lanyard in hand, keeping 

his gun trained on the enemy. Through the ventilators could be heard the 
I i of the steam pumps; lor all th e were joined up an. I 

spouting water, so that, in case of 1 time need l>e lost. Every man's 

nerves were in a state of tension, which was greatly relieved as a huge 

: of white belching from the Ting Yuen's rd barbette, 

ned the ball." 

Idle shot fell a little ahead of the Yoshino, throwing up a tall column 
of white water. Admiral Ito, in ids official report, notes that this first shot 

i red at ten minutes to one. Th i noted m\ the Chen Yuen, 

was 5,200 yards, or a little over three and a half miles. The 
heav\ ind bow guns of th 1 and other ships ttoBattte 

now joined in, but still the Japanese van squadron came on 
without replying. For five minutes the fii i all on the side of the 

Chine--. l!i space between the Japanese van and the hostile line had 



3i8 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 

diminished to 3,000 yards — a little under two miles. The Yoshino, the leading 
ship, was heading for the centre of the Chinese line, but obliquely, so as to 
pass diagonally along the front of the Chinese right wing. At five minutes 
to one her powerful battery of quick-firers opened on the Chinese, sending 
out a storm of shells, most of which fell in the water just ahead of the Ting 
and Chen Yuen. Their first effect was to deluge the decks, barbettes and 
bridges of the two ironclads with the geysers of water flung up by their 
impact with the waves. In a few minutes every man on deck was soaked 
to the skin. One by one the other ships along the Japanese line opened 
fire, and then, as the range still diminished, the Chinese machine-guns, 
Hotchkisses and Nordenfelts added their sharp, growling reports to the 
deeper chorus of the heavier guns. 

The armored barbettes and central citadels of the two Chinese battle- 
ships were especially the mark of the Japanese fire. Theoretically they 
ought to have been pierced again and again, but all the harm they received 
were some deep dents and grooves in the thick plates. But through the 
thin lined hulls of the cruisers the shells crashed like pebbles through glass, 
the only effect of the metal wall being to explode the shells and scatter their 
fragments far and wide. 

The Chinese admiral had drawn up his ships in a single line, with the 

large ones in the centre and the weaker ones on the wings. Ito's ships came 

up in column, the Yoshino leading, his purpose being to take advantage of the 

superior speed of his ships and circle round his adversary. Past 
Admiral Ito's , ~. . . r . 

Strategy tne ^ mi ">ese right wing swept the swift i oshtno, pouring in 

the shells from her rapid-fire guns on the unprotected vessels 

there posted, one of which, the Yang Wei, was soon in flames. The ships 

that followed tore the woodwork of the Chao Yung with their shells, and 

she likewise burst into flames. The slower vessels of the Japanese fleet 

lagged behind their speedy leaders, particularly the little Hcijei, which fell 

so far in the rear as to be exposed to the fire of the whole Chinese fleet. In 

The Daring tms dilemma its captain displayed a daring spirit. Instead of 

Act of the following his consorts, he dashed straight for the line of the 
"Heiiei" ■ . 

enemy, passing between two of their larger vessels at 500 

yards distance. Two torpedoes were launched at him, but missed their 
mark. But he was made the target of a heavy fire, and came through with 
his craft in flames. At 2.23 the blazing Chao J ?/;/£- went to the bottom with 
all on board. 

As a result of the Japanese evolution, their ships finally closed in on 
the Chinese on both sides and the action reached its most furious phase. 
The two flag-ships, the Japanese Matsushima and the Chinese Ting Yuen, 



THE RISE OF JAPAN AN1 > THE DECLINE OF CHINA 319 

pattered each otherwith their great guns, the wood-work of the latter 1> 
toon in flames, while a heap of ammunition on the Matsushima was 
1 by a shell and killed or v. I eighty men. Th 

L. . ', The "Matsu- 

phmese flag-ship would probably have been destroyed by the s hima"and 
lames but that her consort came to her assistance. By five the "Ting 

Yuen" 

/clock the Chinese fleet was in the greatest disorder, several 
)f its ships having been sunk or driven in flames ashore, while others were 
n flight. The Japanese fire was mainly concentrated on the two large iron- 
dads, which continued the fight, their thick armor resisting the heaviest guns 
)f the enemy. 

Signals and signal halyards had been long since shot away, and all the 
signalmen killed or wounded ; but the two ships conformed to each oth 

ind made a splendid fight of it. Admiral Ting had been insen- 
sible for some hours at the outset of the battle. He had stood too close to 
)ne of his own big guns on a platform its muzzle, and had been 

Stunned by the upward 1 kward concussion of the air; but he had re- 

joven ind, though wounded by a burst shell, was bravely 

jommanding his ship. Von Hanneken was also wounded in one of the bar 
>ettes. The ship was on fire forward, but the hose k under. 

The Chen Yuen was almost in the same plight. Her commander, McGii 
lad had several narrow 1 ;. When at last the lacquered woodwork on 

U r forecastle, caught fire, and the men declined to go forward and put it out 
inless an officer went with them, he led the party. Hew 

Ale Ciiff en's Tci*" 

stooping down to move something on the foreca . when a ribie Danger 
shot passed between his arms and legs, wounding both his 
prists: At the same time he was struck down by an explosion near him. 
When he recovered from the shock he found himself in a terrible position. 
lie was lying wounded on the I ind full in front of him the 

mi/,' of one of the heavy bai me sweeping round, rise, and 

fhen sink a little, as the gunners trained it on a Japanese ship, never notii 
that he lay just below the line of fire. It was in vain to try to attract their 
mention. In another minute he would have been caught in the fiery blast. 
With l effort he rolled himself over the edge of the forecastle, drop- 

ping on to some rubbish on the main deck, and hearing the roar of the gun 
as he fell. 

battle now resolved itself into a close cannonade of the two iron- 
clads by the main body of the Japanese fleet, while the rest of the ships 
kept up a desultory fight with the three other Chinese ships and the gun- 
The torpedo boal 1 fro have done nothing. Commander 

McGiffen savs that their engines had been worn out, and their fittings 



320 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 

shaken to pieces, by their being recklessly used as ordinary steam launches 
in the weeks before the battle. The torpedoes fired from the tubes of the 
battleships were few in number, and all missed their mark, one, at least, 
going harmlessly under a ship at which it was fired at a range of only fifty 
yards. The Japanese used no torpedoes. It is even said that, by a mis- 
take, they had sailed without a supply of these weapons. Nor was the ram 
used anywhere. Once or twice a Chinese ship tried to run down a Japanese, 
but the swifter and handier vessels of Ito's squadron easily avoided all 
such attacks. The Yalu fight was from first to last an artillery battle. 

And the end of it came somewhat unexpectedly. The Chen Yuen and 
the Ting Yuen were both running short of ammunition. The latter had 
been hit more than four hundred times without her armour being pierced, 
and the former at least as often. One of the Chen Yuen's heavy guns had 
its mountings damaged, but otherwise she was yet serviceable. Still, she 
had been severely battered, had lost a great part of her crew, and her slow- 
fire must have told the Japanese that she was economizing her ammunition, 
which was now all solid shot. But about half-past five Ito signalled to his 

fleet to retire. The two Chinese ironclads followed them for 
The End of the .... , . . . , r . . 

Battle a couple ot miles, sending an occasional shot aiter them ; then 

the Japanese main squadron suddenly circled round as if to 

renew the action, and, towards six o'clock, there was a brisk exchange of 

fire at long range. When Ito again ceased fire, the Chen Yuen had just 

three projectiles left for her heavy guns. If he had kept on for a few 

minutes longer the two Chinese ships would have been at his mercy. 

Just why Ito retired has never been clearly explained. Probably 

exhaustion of his crew and the perils of a battle at night with such antag- 

Lessons from onists had much to do with it. The next morning the Chinese 

the Yalu fleet had disappeared. It had lost four ships in the fight, two 

had taken to flight, and one ran ashore after the battle and was 

blown up. Two of the Japanese ships were badly damaged, but none were 

lost, while their losses in killed and wounded were much less than those of 

the Chinese. An important lesson from the battle was the danger of too 

much wood-work in ironclad ships, and another was the great value in naval 

warfare of rapid-firing guns. But the most remarkable characteristic of 

the battle of the Yalu was that it took place between two nations which, 

had the war broken out forty years earlier, would have done their fighting 

with fleets of junks and weapons a century old. 
Capture of Wei T T ' . , r . J , ... 

HaiWei * n January, 1895, the Japanese fleet advanced against the 

strongly fortified stronghold of Wei HaiWei, on the northern 

coast of China. Here a force of 25,000 men was landed successfully, and 



THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 321 

.at. ukcd the fort in the rear, quickly capturing its landwan 
The stronghold was thereupon abandoned by its garrison and 1 by 

the fapanese. rhe Chinese fleet lay in the harbor, and sun 1 to 

the fapanese after several ships had been sunk by torpedo bo 

China was now in a perilous position. Its fleet was lost, its 1 
Strongholds of Port Arthur and Wei Hai Wei were held by the enemy, 
and its capital city was threatened from the latter place ami by the army 
north of the Great Wall. A continuation of the war pro to bring 

about the compli nquest of the Chinese empire, and Li Hung Chang, 

who had Keen degraded from his official rank in consequence of the disasters 
to the army, was now restored to all his honors and sent to Japan to sm 

In the treaty ol 1 China was compelled to acknowledge the 

Independence of Corea, to cede to [apan the island of For- 

iin 1 "11 r-iti- The Treaty of 

inosa and t I ires group, and that part ol .Manchuria peace 

occupied by the Japanese army, including Port Arthur, also to 

pay an indemnity of 300,000,000 taels and open seven new treaty po 

This tre.it\- was not fully carried out. The Russian, British, and French 

ministers forced Japan, under threat of war, to give up her claim to the 

Liau run, , - peninsula and Port Arthur. 

The ;tory of China during the few remaining years of the century may 
be briefly told. The evidence of its weakness yielded by the war with Japan 
was quickly taken advantage of by the great powers of Europe, The | mpeiu jj nK 
md China was in danger of going to 1 > under their attacks, Partition of 
which grew so decided and ominous that rumors of a partition " na 

•etween these powers ol the most ancient and populous empire of the world 
the air. 

In 1S9S decided steps in this direction were taken. Russia obtained a 
lease for ninety-nine years of Port Arthur and Talien Wan. and is at 
present in practical possession of Manchuria, through which a railroad is to 
be built connecting with the Trans-Siberian road, while Port Arthur affords 
tier an ice-free harbor for her Pacific fleet. Great Britain, jealous of this 
movement on the part of Russia, forced from the unwilling hands of China 
the port of Wei Hai Wei, and Germany demanded and obtained the cession 
A a port at Kiau Chun, farther down the coast. France, not to be outdone 
by her neighbors, gained concessions of territory in the south, adjoining her 
Indo. China possessions, and Italy, last of all. came into the Eastern market 
foi a share of the nearly defunct empire. 

How far this will go it is not easy to saw The nations „"" 

° Revolution 

settling on China like vultures on a carcass, and perha] 
may tear the antique commonwealth to pieces between them. Within 



322 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 

the empire itself revolutionary changes have taken place, the dowager 
empress having deprived the emperor of power and held him a palace 
prisoner at Peking. In this action she was sustained by the conservative 
party of the empire, which was disturbed by the emperor's attempt to reform 
the administration. For the events that succeeded see a subsequent chapter. 

Meanwhile one important result has come from the recent war. Li 
Hung Chang and the other progressive statesmen of the empire, who have 
long been convinced that the only hope of China lies in its being thrown 
open to Western science and art, have now become able to carry out their 
plans, the conservative opposition having seriously broken down. The 
result of this is seen in a dozen directions. Railroads, long almost com- 
pletely forbidden, have now gained free " right of way," and 
r °£ ressin before many years promise to traverse the country far and 

wide. Steamers plough their way for a thousand miles up 
the Yang-tse-Kiang ; engineers are busy exploiting the coal and iron mines 
of the Flowery Kingdom ; great factories, equipped with the best modern 
machinery, are springing up in the foreign settlements ; foreign books are 
being translated and read ; and the emperor and the dowager empress have 
even gone so far as to receive foreign ambassadors in public audience and 
on a footing of outward equality in the "forbidden city" of Peking, long the 
sacredly secluded centre of an empire locked against the outer world. 

All this is full of significance. The defeat of China in 1895 may prove 
its victory, if it starts it upon a career of acceptance of Western civilization 
which shall, before the twentieth century has far advanced, raise it to the 
level of Japan. It must be borne in mind that the extraordinary progress of 
the island empire has been made within about forty years. China is a larger 
body and in consequence less easy to move, but its people are innately 
What the Fu= practical and the pressure of circumstances is forcing them 
ture May forward. Within the next half century this great empire, 

ring to ma Respite j ts thousands of years of unchanging conditions, may 
take a wonderful bound in advance, and come up to Japan in the race of 
political and industrial development. In such a case all talk of the parti- 
tion of China must cease, and it will take its place among the greatest 
powers of the world. 



CHAPTER XXI. 
The Era of Colonies. 

SIXCE civilization began nations have endeavored to extend their 
dominions, not alone by adding to their territory by the conquest of 
adjoining countries, but also by sending out their excess pop 
to distant regions and founding colonies that served as aids to and fe< 
of the parent state. In the ancient world the active commercial nal 
Phoenicia and Greece, were alert in this direction, some of their colour 
Cartii ir instance, — becoming powerful enough to gain the statu 

independent states. In modern times the colonial era began with the dis- 
covery of America in [492 and the circumnavigation of Africa immediately 
afterwards. Spain and Portugal, the leaders in enterprise at that period, 
were quick to take advantage of their discoveries, while Franci Bri- 

tain and Holland into the field as foundi colonies at a later date. 

At the opening of the nineteenth century Spain and Portugal still held 
: rreat dominions they had won. They divided between them the conti- 
nent of South America, while Spain held a la ion of North America, 
embracing the whole continent south of Canada and west of the Missis 
River, together with the peninsula of Florida. Portugal held, in addition 

to Brazil, large territories in e Africa and minor 

. . , . . . . . Progress in 

^sions elsewhere. As regards the remaining active colonization 

nizing nations, -Great Britain, France, and Holland, — 

some striking transformations had taken place. Great Britain, while 

late to come into the field of colonization, had shown remarkable activity 

and aggressiveness in this direction, robbing Holland of her settlement on 

t'ne Atlantic coast of America, ami depriving France of hei lonial 

in the east and the west. 

France had shown rkable activity in colonization. In the 

1 lined a strong foothold in India, which promi expand to imperial 

dimensions. In the west she hi :d Canada, had planted French Activity 

military posts along thi ippi River and claimed in rounding 

the vast territory beyond, and was extending into the Ohio Colonies 

Valley, while the British still confined themselves to a narrow strip along the 

Atlantic coast. The war which broke out between the English and French 

323 



324 THE ERA OF COLONIES 

colonists in 1754 put an end to this grand promise. When it ended France 
had lost all her possessions in America and India, Great Britain becoming 
heir to the whole of them with the exception of the territory west of the 
Mississippi, which was transferred to Spain. As regards Holland, she had 
become the successor of Portugal in the east, holding immensely valuable 
islands in the Malayan archipelago. 

The colonial dominion of Great Britain, however, suffered one great 
loss before the end of the eighteenth century. It failed to recognise 
the spirit of Anglo-Saxon colonists, and by its tyranny in America gave rise 
to an insurrection which ended in the freedom of its American colonies. It 
still held Canada and many of the West India Islands, but the United States 
was free, and by the opening of the nineteenth century had fairly begun 
its remarkable development. 

Such was the condition of colonial affairs at the beginning of the cen- 
tury with which we are concerned. Spain and Portugal still held the great- 
est colonial dominions upon the earth, France had lost nearly the whole of 
her colonies, Holland possessed the rich spice islands of the eastern seas, 
and Great Britain was just entering upon that activity in colonization which 
forms one of the striking features of nineteenth century progress. 

At the close of the centuryaremarkabledifference appears. Spain had 

lost practically the whole of her vast colonial empire. She had learned no 

lesson from England's experience with her American colonies, 
Spain's Colo- . ...,., , ., . 

nial Decline " ut maintained a policy of tyranny and oppression until these 

far-extended colonial provinces rose in arms and won their 

independence by courage and endurance. Her great domain west of the 

Mississippi, transferred by treaty to France, was purchased by the United 

States. Florida was sold by her to the same country, and by the end of 

the first quarter of the century she did not own a foot of land on the 

American continent. She still held the islands of Cuba and Porto Rico 

in the West Indies, but her oppressive policy yielded the same result there 

as on the continent. The islanders broke into rebellion, the United States 

came to their aid, and she lost these islands and the Philippine Islands in 

the East. At the end of the century all she held were the Canary Islands 

and some small possessions elsewhere. 

Portugal had also suffered a heavy loss in her colonial dominions, but 

in a very different manner. The invasion of the home state by Napoleon's 

armies had caused the king and his court to set sail for Brazil, where they 

established an independent empire, while a new scion of the family of 

Braganza took Portugal for his own. Thus, with the exception of Canada, 



THE ERA OF COLONIES 

Guiana, and the smaller islands of the West Indies, no colo d in 

America at tin- end ol the century, all the former colonies having bei 
independent republ 

The active powers in colonization within the nineteenth century were 
the great rivals of the prei period, Great Britain and France, tho 

the former grained decidedly the start, and its colonial empire „., „ , 

• ■ The Colonial 

to-day surpasses that of any other nation of mankind. It is Development 

so enormous, in fact, as to dwarf the parent kingdom, which of Great 
is related to its colonial dominion, so far as comparati; 

mcerned, as the small brain of the elephant i d to its great body. 

Other powers, not heard of as colonizers in the past, h; ently 

come into this field, though too late to obtain any of the great pr 
These are Germany ami Italy, the latter to ;l small extent. Hut there is a 
great power still to name, which in its way stands as a rival to Great Britain, 
the empire of Russia, whose acquisitions in Asia have grown enormous in 
extent. These an- not colonies in the ordinary sense, hut rather n 
the expansion of an empire through warlilo ession, but 

. ..... r i i • i i Other Coloniz- 

the\ .ne colonial in the sense < > t absorbing the excess popula- ing p owers 
tion of European Russia. The great territory of Siberia w 
gained by Russia before the ni th century, but within recent years its 

dominion in Asia has greatly increased, and it is not easy to tell just when 
and where it will end. 

With this preliminary review we may proceed to consider the history 
of colonization within the century. And first we must take up the results 
of the colonial enterprise of Great Britain, as much the most important of 
the whole. 01 this story we have already described some of the leading 
features. A chapter h n eaven to the story of the Indian empit 

Great Britain, far the largest of her colonial possessions, and another to 
that ot South Africa. In addition to Hindostan, in which the (irmv(h ,,,- (ne 
dominion of Great Britain now extends to Afghanistan and British 
Thibet in the north, the British colony now incli irmah Colonies 

ami the west-coast n : Indo-China, with the Straits Settlements in the 

Malay peninsula, and the island of Ceylon, acquired in iSoj from Holl 

In i iiv.it Britain pos ; another colony of 

dimensions, the continental island of Australia, which, with its area of ni 
3,000,000 square miles, is three-fourths th< of Europe. 1 

British settlement was made here in 17NN, at Port [ackson, the site of the 
present thriving city of Sydney, and the island was long maintait 
penal settlement, convicts being sent there as late as 1868. It was the dis- 
covery oi gold in 1851 to which Australia owed its great pr< The 

IS 



326 THE ERA OF COLONIES 

incitement of the yellow metal drew the enterprising thither by thousands, 

until the population of the colony is now more than 3,000,000, 
Australia and , . . . , , . , , , , 

New Zealand anc ' IS growing at a rapid rate, it having developed other 

valuable resources besides that of gold. Of its cities, Mel- 
bourne, the capital of Victoria, has more than 300,000 population ; Sydney, 
the capital of New South Wales, probably 250,000, while there are other 
cities of rapid growth. Australia is the one important British colony 
obtained without a war. In its human beings, as in its animals generally, 
it stood at a low level of development, and it was taken possession of 
without a protest from the savage inhabitants. 

The same cannot be said of the inhabitants of New Zealand, an impor- 
tant group of islands lying east of Australia, which was acquired by Great 
Britain as a colon v in 1840. The Maoris, as the people of these islands call 
themselves, are of the bold and sturdy Polynesian race, a brave, generous, 
and warlike people, who have given their new lords and masters no little 
trouble. A series of wars with the natives began in 1843 an d continued 
until 1869, since which time the colony has enjoyed peace. It can have no 
more trouble with the Maoris, since there are said to be few more Maoris. 
They have vanished before the "white man's face." At present this colony 
is one of the most advanced politically of any region on the face of the 
earth, so far as attention to the interests of the masses of the people is con- 
cerned, and its laws and regulations offer a useful object lesson to the remain- 
der of the world. 

In addition to those great island dominions in the Pacific, Great Britain 

possessess the Fiji Islands, the northern part of Borneo, and a large section 

of the extensive island of Papua or New Guinea, the remainder of which is 

held by Holland and Germany. In addition there are various 
Other British .. . ... . r . T , 

Colonies coaling stations on the islands and coast ot Asia. In the 

Mediterranean its possessions are Gibraltar, Malta, and Cyprus, 
and in America the great colony of Canada, a considerable number of the 
islands of the West Indies, and the districts of British Honduras and British 
Guiana. Of these, far the most important is Canada, to which a chapter 
will be devoted farther on in our work. 

We have here to deal with the colonies in two of the continents, Asia 
and Africa, of which the history presents certain features of singularity. 
Though known from the most ancient times, while America was quite un- 
known until four centuries ago, the striking fact presents itself that at the 
beginning of the nineteenth century the continents of North and South 
America were fairly well known from coast to centre, while the interior of 
Asia and Africa remained in great part unknown. This fact in regard to 



77//-: ERA OF COLONIES 

Asia was due to the hostile attitude of its people, which rendered it very 

dangerous for any European traveler to attempt to penetrate its interior. 

In the case of Africa it was due to the inhospitality of nature, which had 

ed the most serious obstacles in the way ol those who ■-< >ught The | nter j or 

to penetrate beyond the roast regions. This state of affairs of Africa 

continue,! until the latter half of the century, within which 

period there has been a remarkabL i r t e in th< irs, both 

tinents having b netrated in all directions and their walls ol isolation 

completely broken down. 

Africa is not only now well known, but the penetration of its inti 

has Keen followed by political changes of the most revolutionary char. 

It pn a virgin field for colonization, of which the land-hungry nations 

ol Europe hastened to avail them dividing up the continent between 

them, so that, by the end of the century, the partition of Africa was 

practically complete. It is one of the most remarkable circumstances in the 

history ol the nineteenth centurj thai a complete continent 

. . ... . , , .' r , . , Early Colonies 

remained thus until late in the history ol the world to serve as 1,1 Africa 

a new held for the outpouring of the nations. The ■ ion 

of Africa by Europeans, indeed, L rlier. 1 he Arabs had held the 

tion north of the Sahara for many centurii . I il claimed -but 

occupied I, 1 tions east and west, and the Hutch had a thriving settle- 

ment in the south. But the exploration and division ol the bulk of the 
tinent waited for the nineteenth century, and the greater part of the work 
of partition took place within ; 1] quarter of that century. 

In this work ol colonization Great Britain was. as usual, most energetic 
and su ful, and to-day the pos ■ and protectorates ol this active 

kingdom in Africa embrace 2,587,755 square miles; or, il we add Egypt and 

Egyptian Soudan — practically British territory — the area occupi< 

ned amounts : 5 square miles. Fra 

, . .. The Partition 

next, with claims covering 1,232,454 square miles. Uermany • of A f riL;i 

lays claim to 920,920; Italy, to 278,500; Portugal, to 4; 

Spain, to 243,877 ; the Congo 1 /oo.ooo ; and Turkey (if Egypt 

icluded), to .are miles. The parts of Africa unoccupied or 

unclaimed bj Europeans are a portion of the Desert of Sahara, which no 

one wants; Abyssinia, still in< :nt though in danger of absorpti 

and Liberia, a slate over which rests the sic ction of the 

United States. 

Of the British colonial dons in Africa ready sufficiently 

ribed that in the south, extending now from Cape Town to Lake JTan- 

ganyika, and forming an immense area, replete with natural resources, and 



328 THE ERA OF COLONIES 

capable of sustaining a very large future population. On the east coast is 

another large acquisition, British East Africa, extending north to Abyssinia 

and the Soudan and west to the Congo Free State, and including part of 

the great Victoria Nyanza. Further north a large slice 
British Colonies . , , f „ ...... , ^ u , 

in Africa ' ias Deen carved out or Somahland, facing on the Gun ot 

Aden. The remainder of this section of Africa is claimed — 
though very feebly held — by Italy, whose possessions include Somahland 
and Eritrea, a coast district north of Abyssinia. Great Britain, in addition, 
lays claim to Sierra Leone and the Ashantee country on the west coast and 
an extensive region facing on the Gulf of Guinea, and extending far back 
into the Soudan. 

Next to Great Britain in activity in the acquisition of African territory 
comes France, which within the recent period has enormously extended its 
claims to territory in this continent. Of these the most difficult in acquire- 
ment was Algeria, on the Mediterranean, which France first invaded in 1830, 
but did not obtain quiet possession of for many years and then only at the cost 

of long and sanguinary wars. At a later date the adjoining 
African Colonies ,, .", , . , . . 

of France Moorish kingdom 01 1 unis was added, and since then the 

claims of France have been extended indefinitely southward, 
to include the greater part of the western half of the Sahara — the Atlantic 
coast district of the Sahara being claimed by Spain. Of this great desert 
region almost the whole is useless to any nation, and France holds it mainly 
as a connecting link between her possessions in Algeria and the Soudan. 

French Soudan has had a phenomenal growth, the French displaying the 
same enterprise here as they did in America in the rapid extension of their 
Canadian province. Claiming, as thei.r share in the partition of Africa, the 
Atlantic coast region of Senegal and an extensive district facing on the Gulf 
of Guinea and the South Atlantic, and known as French Congo, they have 
made an enormous spread, northward from the latter, westward from Sene- 
gal, and southward from Algeria, until now their claims cover nearly the 
whole of the Soudan — a vast belt of territory stretching from the Atlantic 
nearly across the continent and bordering on the Egyptian Soudan in the 
east. The French claim, indeed, extended as far as the Nile, being based 
on Major Marchand's journey to the river in 1898. But the English con- 
quests in that region barred out the French claim, and it has been abandoned. 
In addition to the territories here named, France has taken possession of a 
portion of the coast region of Abyssinia, between the Italian and the British 
regions, and completely shutting out that ancient kingdom from the sea. 

The latest of the nations to develop the colonizing spirit were Italy and 
Germany. We have described Italy's share in Africa. Germany's is far 



THE ERA OF CO/ i WIES 

larger and more imporant. In East Africa it holds a large and valuable 

m of territory, on the Zanzibar coast, between British East Africa 

and Portugue Mozambique, and extending westward to (k . imanaild 

Lake Nyassa and Tanganyika and the Congo Free State, Italian 

and northward to the Victoria Nyanza. It cuts off British Colontes 

territory from an extension throughout the whole length of Africa, and 

if Cecil Rhodes' Cairo to Cape Town Railway is ever completed, some 

hundreds of miles of it will have to run through German territory. 

In South Africa Germany has seized upon abroad r< ft unclaimed 

by Great Britain, the Atlantic coast section of Damaraland and <■ 

Namaqualand, and also an extensive section on the right of the Gulf of 

Guinea, stretching inward like a wedge between British and 

sions in this region. On the Gold Coast it has also a minor territory, lying 

between British Ashantee and French Dahomey. 

[*h< broad interior of the continent, the mighty plateau region wat 

by the great Congo River and its innumerable affluents, first traversed by 

the daring Stanley not many years in the past, has been 

, . L , . . ... . The Congo 

erected into the extensive and promising Congo rree .State, tree state 

under the suzerainty ol the king of Belgium. It is the most 
populous and agriculturally the richest on of Africa, while its remark- 

able extension of navigable waters gives uninterrupted communication 
through its every part. It has probably before it a great future. 

Off tin; east coast of Africa lies the great island of Madagascar, now a 
French territory. France has hail militar on its coast for more than 

two hundred years, and in 1883 began the series of wars The French 
which resulted in the conquest of the island. The principal Conquestol 
war of invasion began in 1895 aiu ' ended in a complete oxer- 
throw of tin- native government, Madagascar being declared a French col- 
ony in June, 1S96. 

Of these European possessions in Afri ire held with a strong 

hand except those of Portugal, which unprogressive state may soon <^\ve up 
all claim to her territories of Angola and Mozambique. Great Britain and 
Germany have been negotiating with Portugal for the purchase ol these ter- 
ritorie to b< divided between them. But the Boer War has seriously inter- 
fered with this negotiation, and ( neat Britain's desire to gain possession of the 
Portuguese harbor of I» lagoa Bay seems unlikelj : ,lized. WargJn Afnca 

This division of Africa between the European nations, 
with the subsequent takini a of the acquired territories, has not 

been accomplished without war and bloodshed ; England, France, and 
Italy having had to fight hard to establish their claims. In only two 



330 THE ERA OF COLONIES 

tions, Abyssinia and the Egyptian Soudan, have the natives been able to 
drive out their invaders, and the wars in these regions call for some fuller 
notice. 

The first war in Abyssinia occurred in 1867, when England, irritated by 
an arbitrary action of the Emperor Theodore, declared war against him, 
and invaded his rocky and difficult country. The war ended in the conquest 
of Magdala and the death of Theodore. In 1889 Italy aided Menelek in 
eainine the throne, and was Granted the laroe district of Eritrea on the Red 
Defeat of the Sea, with a nominal protectorate over the whole kingdom. 
Italians in Subsequently Menelek repudiated the treaty, and in 1894 the 
yssima Italians invaded his kingdom. For a time they were success- 
ful, but in March, 1896, the Italian army met with a most disastrous defeat, 
and in the treaty that followed Italy was compelled to acknowledge the 
complete independence of Abyssinia. It was the one case in Africa in 
which the natives were able to hold their own against the ambitious nations 
of Europe. 

In Egypt they did so for a time, and a brief description of the recent 
history of this important kingdom seems of interest. Egypt broke loose 
in large measure from the rule of Turkey during the reign of the able and 
ambitious Mehemet Ali, who was made viceroy in 1840 In 1876 the inde- 
pendence of Egypt was much increased, and its rulers were given the title 
of khedive, or king. The powers of the khedives steadily increased, and in 
1874-75 Ismail Pasha greatly extended the Egyptian terri- 
of Eg'-pt t° r y> annexing the Soudan as far as Darfur, and finally to the 

shores of the lately discovered Victoria Nyanza. Egypt thus 
embraced the valley of the Nile practically to its source, presenting an 
aspect of immense length and great narrowness. 

Soon after, the finances of the country became so involved that they 
were placed under European control, and the growth of English and French 
influence led to the revolt of Arabi Pasha in 1879. This was repressed by 
Great Britain, which bombarded Alexandria and defeated the Egyptians, 
France taking no part. As a result the controlling influence of France 
ended, and Great Britain became the practical ruler of Egypt, which posi- 
tion she still maintains. 

In 1880 began an important series of events. A Mohammedan prophet 

arose in the Soudan, claiming to be the Mahdi, a Messiah of the Mussulmans. 

A laroe body of devoted believers soon oathered around him, 
The Rise of the . , J . . , , . ° , , . , 

Mahdi and he set up an independent sultanate in the desert, defeating 

four Egyptian expeditions sent against him, and capturing El 

Obeid, the chief city of Kordofan, which he made his capital in 1883. 



THE ERA OF COLONIES 331 

ainst him Greal Britain dispatched an army of British and Egyp- 
tian soldiers, under an English leader styled in Egypt Micks Pasha. Tl 
advanced to El Obeid, where they fell into an ambush prepared by the 
Mahdists, and, after a desperate struggle, lasting three days, were almost com- 
pletely annihilated, v a man escaping to tell the disastrous tale. 
"General I I irks." said a newspaper correspondent, "charged at the head of 

Staff. They galloped towards a sheikh, supposed by the The Massacre of 

Egyptians to be the Mahdi. Hicks rushed on him with his HicksPasha 
sword and cut his face and arm ; this man had on a Darfur an s rm> 

mail-shirt, fust then a club thrown struck General Hicks on the head 
and unhorsed him. The chargers of the staff were speared but the English 
officers fought on foot till all were killed. Hicks was the last to die." 

Other Egyptians troops sent against Osman Digna 

I man the Ugly"), the lieutenant of the Mahdi in the Eastern Soudan. 
met with a similar fate, while the towns of Sinkat and Tokar were invested 
by the Mahdists. To relieve these towns Baker Pasha advanced with a 
force of 3,650 men. Then daring or accomplished officer in 

the British army than Valentine Baker, but his expedition met with the 
same fate as that of his predecessor. Advancing into tb t from Trin- 

kit.it, a town sonn- distance south of Suakim, on th : Red Sea, the force 

act by a body of Mahdists, ami the Egyptian soldiers at once broke 
into a panic of terror. Hie Mahdists were only some 1,200 strong, but 
they surrounded and butchered the unresisting Egyptians in a frightful 
slaughter. 

" Inside the square," aid an eyev ite of affairs was almost 

indescribable. Cavalry, infantry, mules, camels, falling baggage and dying 
men were crushed into a strugfSflinsf, surging mass. The 
Egyptians were shrieking madly, hardly attempting to run Near Suakim 
away, but trying I themselves one behind anoth 

"The conduct of the Egyptians was simply di ul," said another officer. 

"Armed with rifle and bayonet, they allowed themselves to he slaughtered, 
without an effort at e, by sa^ nferior to them in numbers and 

armed only with spears and swords." 

Baker and his staff officers, seeing that affairs were hopeless, charged 
the enemy and cut their way through to the shore, hut of the total force 
two-thirds were left dead or wounded on the field. Such was the "massa- 
cre" of I'd d'eh, which was followed four days afterwards by the capture of 
Sinkat and slaughter of its garrison. This butchery was soon after aven 
General Graham was sent from Cairo with reinforcements of British troops, 
which advanced on Osman's position, and in two blood}- engagements sub 



332 



THE ERA OF COLONIES 



jected him to disastrous defeat. The last victory was a crushing' one, the 

total British loss being about 200, while, of the Arab loss, the killed alone 

numbered over 2,000. 

In the same year in which these events took place (1S84) General 

Charles Gordon — Chinese Gordon, as he was called, from his memorable 

exploits in the Flowery Kingdom — advanced by the Nile to Khartoum, the 

far-off capital of the Mohammedan Soudan, of which he had 

been grovernor-p-eneral in former years. His purpose was to 
to Khartoum & & J ... 

relieve the Egyptian garrison of that city — in which design 
he failed. In fact, the Arabs of the Soudan flocked in such multitudes to 
the standard of the Mahdi that Khartoum was soon cut off from all com- 
munication with the country to the north, and Gordon and the garrison 
were left in a position of dire peril. It was determined to send an expedi- 
tion to his relief, and this was organized under the leadership of Lord 
Wolseley, the victor in the Ashantee and Zulu wars. 

The expedition was divided into two sections, a desert column which 
was to cross a sandy stretch of land with the aid of camels, from Korti to 
Metamneh, on the Nile, thus cutting off a wide loop in the stream; and a 
river column for whose transportation a flotilla of 800 whale boats was sent 
out from England. The desert column found its route strongly disputed. 

On the 7th of January, 1885, it was attacked by the Arabs in 

°' f , e overwhelming- force and fighting- with the ferocity of tigers, 
of Gordon & . . . . 

some 5,000 of them attacking the 1,500 British drawn up in 

square, round which the fanatical Mahdists raged like storm-driven waves. 

The peril was imminent. Among those who fell on the British side was 

Colonel Burnaby, the famous traveler. The battle was a remarkably brief 

one, the impetuous rush of the Arabs being repulsed in about five minutes 

of heroic effort, during which there was imminent danger of their penetrating 

the square and making an end of the British troops. As it was the Arabs lost 

1,100 in dead and a large number of wounded, the British 

e esert | ess t j lan 200 ; n a |] ^ £ ew d a y S afterwards the Arabs at- 

Fights J 

tacked again, but as before were repulsed with heavy loss. 

On the 19th of January the river was reached, and the weary troops 

bivouacked on its banks. 

Here they were met by four steamers which Gordon had sent down 

the Nile, after plating their hulls with iron as a protection against Arab 

bullets. Various circumstances now caused delay, and several days passed 

before General Wilson, in command of the expedition, felt it safe to 

advance on Khartoum. At length, on January 24th, two of the steamers, 

with a small force of troops, set out up the river, but met with so many 



THE ERA < '/■" ( '< >/. ( )NIES 333 

obstacles that it was the 28th before they came within sight of the distant 
powers of Khartoum. From the hank came a shout t" the effecl that 
JChartoum had been taken and Gordon killed two days before. As they 
[rew nearer there came evidence that tli at was true. No 

British flag was seen flying ; not a shot came from the shore in aid of the 
jteamers. Masses of tl my could he- seen in all directions. A storm 

if musketry beat like hail on the iron sides of the boats. Wilson, believing 
jhe attempt hopeless, gave the order to turn and run at full speed down the 
fiver. liny did so amid a rattle of bullets and bursting of shells from the 
irtillery of the enemy. 

The news they brought was true. The gallant Gordon was indeed 
lead. The 1 \.iet events that took place are not known. Some attributed 
he fall of" the town to the act of a traitor, some to the storming of the 
rates. It does not matter now; it is enough to know that 
:he famous Christian soldier had been killed with all his er - a i Oordon 
lien about 4,000 persons being slaughtered, in a massacre 
h.i! continued for six hours. That was the end of it. The British soon after 
withdrew and left Khartoum and the Soudan in the undisputed possession 
:>f the Arabs. The Mahdi had keen victorious, though he did not live long 
to enjoy his triumph, he dying some months later. 

An'! so matters were left for nearly twelve years, when the British 
government, having arranged affairs in Egypt to its liking, ami put the 
country in a prosperous condition, decided to attempt thi [uest of 

the Soudan, and avenge the slaughter' Ion. An expedition was sent 

out in 1S90, which captured Dongola in September and defeated the der- 
vish force in several engagements. The pi ntinued, slowly but 
surely, up the Xile. In [897 other advantages were gained. But it was 
not until [898 that the Anglo-Egyptian force, under Sir Herbert Kitchener, 
known under his Egyptian title of the Sirdar, reached the vicinity of 
Khartoum. The Egyptian him were of other The Advance of 
null than those commanded by Baker Pasha. From a mob the British 
v,th arms in hand they had been drilled into brave and steady ™ d * e ? pt H ure 

J . of the Soudan 

soldiers, quite capable ol giving a good account of themseh 1 
At Omdurman, near Khartoum, the dervishes were met in force and a 
fierce and final battle w ht. The Aral a crushing defeat, 

losing more than 10,000 men, while the British loss was only about ;oo. 
This brilliant victory ended the war on the Xile. The light was taken out 
of the Arabs. udan w; ;\pt by British arms, four- 

teen years after it had been lost to the Mahdi. 



334 THE ERA OF COLONIES 

Asia has been invaded by the nations of civilization almost as actively 
as Africa, and to-day, aside from the Chinese and Japanese Empires, far the 
greater part of that vast continent is under foreign control, the only impor- 
tant independent sections being Turkey, Arabia, Persia, and Afghanistan. 
As matters now look, all of these, China included, before the twentieth cen- 
tury is very old may be in European hands, and the partition 
The Partition ,-a-i i i r a r ■ t^i 

of Asia °' Asia become as complete as that ot Africa. 1 he nations 

active in this work have been Great Britain, Russia, and 
France, while Holland is in possession of Java, Sumatra, and others of the 
valuable spice islands of the eastern seas. Of the enterprise of Great Bri- 
tain in extending her colonial dominion in Hindostan and Burmah we have 
already spoken. The enterprise of France here demands attention. 

France has always been remarkably active in her colonizing enterprises. 
In America she surpassed Great Britain in the rapid extension of her do- 
minion, though she fell far behind in the solidity of her settlements. It has 
been the same in Africa. France has spread out with extraordinary rapidity 

over the Soudan, while England has moved much more slowly 
French and a J 

British lWeth= but far more surely. The enterprises of the one are brilliant, 
ods of Colon- those of the other are solid, and it is the firmness with which 
the Anglo-Saxon race takes hold that makes it to-day the 
dominant power on the earth. The French have the faculty of assimilating 
themselves with foreign peoples, accepting their manners and customs and 
becoming their friends and allies. The British, on the contrary, are too apt 
to treat their colonial subjects as inferior beings, but they combine their 
haughtiness with justice, and win respect at the same time as they inspire 
distrust and fear. 

The colonizing enterprise of France in Asia, after the French had been 
ousted from India by Great Britain, directed itself to the peninsula of Indo- 
China. This was the only region of the Asiatic coast land which was at 
once safe to meddle with and worth the cost and trouble. In 1789 the em- 
peror of Annam accepted French aid in the conquest of the adjoining 
Operations of states of Cochin China and Tenquin. The wedge of French 
France in influence, thus entered, was not removed. Missionaries sought 

those far-off realms, and in time found themselves cruelly 
treated by the natives. As usual in such cases, this formed a pretext for in- 
vasion and annexation, and in 1862 a portion of Cochin China was seized upon 
by France, the remainder being annexed in 1867. Meanwhile, in J 863, the 
"protection" of France was extended over the neighboring state of Cambodia. 
North of Cochin China lies Annam, and farther north, bordering on 
China, is the province of Tonquin, inhabited largely by Chinese. The four 



THE ERA OF COLONIES 335 

mentioned constitute the eastern half of Indo-China. The western 
portion is formed by the kingdom of Bunnah, now a British possession. 
Between these lies the contracted kingdom of Siam, the only portion of the 
jjeninsula that retains its im ' 

rhe attention of France was next directed to Tonquin, the northern 
tfovince of the Annamite Empire, which was invaded in 1873, ;im ' ' ls capi- 
ial city, Hanoi, captured. Here the French found foeman worthy of their 
steel. After the suppression of the Taiping rebellion in 
Jhina certain hands of the rebels took refuge in Tonquin, F | a _ s 
vhere they won themselves a new home by force of arms, and 
n [868 held the valley of the Rod River as far south as Hanoi. T! 
cnown as the "Black Flags," wore hold, restless, daring desperadoes, who 
hade the conquesl of the country a difficult task for the French. By their 
iid the invading French were driven from Hanoi and forced hack in def< 

The French resumed their work of conquest in 1SS2, again taking the 
;ity ol Hanoi, and in December, [883, a stron ditiqn advanced up the 

ied River against the stronghold of Sontay, which, with the 
leighboring Bac Ninh, was looked upon, in a military sense, sontay° 
is the key to Tonquin. The enl seemed a desperate 

>n< . the expeditionary fore iisting of but 6,000 soldiers and 1,350 

[oolies, while behind the stn rks of the place were 25,000 armed men, 

>f whom 10,000 were composed of the valiant Black Flags. But cannon 
erved the place of men. The river defences were b; I down and 

mi the citadd. During the succeeding night, 
towever, the French ran imminent risk of a disastrous repulse. At one 
('clock at night, when all but the sentries were locked in slumber, a sudden 
hower of rockets was poured nn the thatched roofs of the huts in which 
ildiers lay asleep, and with savage yells the Chinese rushed from their 
rates and into the heart of the camp, firing briskly as they came. The 

■ h troops, fatigued with the hard fighting of the preceding day, and 
lemoralized by the suddenness of the attack and the pluck 

} ' . A .Ni^ht Attack 

.ml persistent energy 01 the assailants, were thrown almost into 
»anic, and were ready to give way when the Chinese trumpets sounded the 
ecall and the enemy drew off. As it appi wards this attack 

mule by only 300 men. It would undoubtedly have stampeded the 
nvading forces but for the vigilance of the sentinels. 

I m the next day, 1 >ecember 16th, the fort was stormed, and taken after 
l desp< rate resistance ["here is but one incident 1 tult thai 

ieed relate. As the French rushed across the bridge that spanned the \. 
litch and approached the -ate ot the citadel, there was seen an instance of 



336 THE ERA OF COLONIES 

cool and devoted bravery hardly excelled by that which was displayed by the 

famous " captain of the gate " who held the Tiber bridge against the Tuscan 

host. There, told off to guard the narrow passage between the stockade and 

the wall, stood a gallant Black Flag soldier. His Winchester repeating rifle 

was in his hand, its magazine filled with cartridges. Although 

the Citadel' 0t ^ a ^ tne F rencn force were at the gate, he quailed not. Shot 

after shot he fired, deliberately and calmly, and each bullet 

found its billet. Down went brave Captain Mehl, leader of the Foreign 

Leodon, with a ball through his heart, and other attackers were slain ; and 

when the stormers rushed in at last the heroic Black Flag, true to his trust, 

died with his face to the foe, as a soldier should die. The French, quick to 

recognize bravery either in friend or enemy, buried him with military honors 

when the day's fight was over, at the gate which he defended so well. 

The capture of this town, followed by that of Bac-Ninh, which was 
similarly taken by storm, completed the work of conquest and firmly estab- 
lished the French in their occupation of Tonquin. 

They had, however, still the Chinese to deal with. China claimed a 

suzerainty over this region and protested against the French invasion, and 

in 1885 went to war for the expulsion of the foreign conquerors. During 

the previous year the Black Flags had engaged in murderous raids on the 

French mission stations, in which they massacred nearly 

session io.ooo native Christians. In the war with China, they, with 

other Chinese troops, held the passes above Tuyen-Kivan for 

nearly a month against repeated assaults by the French, and were still in 

possession of their posts when peace was declared. China had yielded 

the country to France. 

In 1895 France gained the right to extend a railway from Annam into 
China, a concession which was protested against by Great Britain, then in 
possession of the adjoining province. In 1896 a treaty was made between 
these two powers, which fixed the Mekong or Cambodia River as their divid- 
ing line. As a result those powers now hold all of Indo-China except the 
much diminished kingdom of Siam. France has permitted the form of 
the old government to continue, the Emperor of Annam still reigning — 
though he does not rule, since the real power is in the hands of the French 
governor-general at Hanoi. 

While Great Britain and France were thus establishing themselves in 
the south, Russia was engaged in the conquest of the north and centre 
of the continent. The immense province of Siberia, crossing the whole 
width of the continent in the north, was acquired by Russia in the seven- 
teenth century, after which the progress of Russia in Asia ceased until the 



THE ERA OF COLONIES 337 

ineteenth century, within which the territory of the Muscovite empire in 
lat continent has been very greatly extended. Two provi re wre 

•0111 Persia in 1828, as the prize of .1 victorious war, and in 
S50 the conquest of the region of the Caucasus was completed '!'° A f v f nce " f 

J J * ? Russia in Asia 

y the capture of the heroic Schamyl. In 1 S 5 8 the left hank 

f the great Amur River was gained by treaty with China, after having 

een occupied by foi 

Soon after this period, Russia began the work oi :st in the n 

[ Turkestan, that long-mysteriou i, inhabited in 

art by fierce desert nomades, who made Persia the spoil of 

leir devastating raids, and in part by intolerant settled tribes, among 
horn no Christian dared venture except at risk of his life. It remained in 
re.it measure a terra incognita until the Russi ms forced their way into it 
rms in hand. 

The southern border of Siberia was orradually extended downward 
ver the great region of the Mongolian until the northern limits 

f Turkestan were reached, and in 1S64 Russia invaded this region, sub- 
nine- the oasis of Tashkend after a fierce war. In [868 the march of 
ivasion reached Bokhara, and in 1873 tn< ' °f Khiva 

as conquered and annexed. In 187s 7° Khokand was con- ' ,c " xa 

1 . ' J ' ....«' Turkestan 

uered after a fierce war. and annexed to Russia. This 

jmpleted the acquisition of the fertile provinces of Turkestan, but 

erce nomades ol the desert remained unsubdued, and the 

nd the country of the warlike Tekke Turcomans were still to conquer. 

'his. which was accomplished in t88o 81, merits a fuller descriptii 

A broad belt of desert lands str ache, mtinenl 

•din Arabia, in the southwest, to the unless highlands of G or Shamo. 
1 the far east. This desert zone is i n by a tract ol 

:eppe land that is covered with grass for a portion of th< 
irelv a large oasis is formed where the rivers and si. ling 

■Din a mountain ranee, supply water to a fertile region, before I 
dves iii the sands of the desert beyond. 

Eastward of the Caspian, and south of the Aral, much of th 
ind is a salt desert, and the shells, mixed with the surface sand, ai: 
.irtlier evidence that it was in times not very remote ; 
f the bottom of a large inland sea, of which the land- The Deserts of 

& Central Asia 

)cked waters of Western Asia are a survival. 

Alone tiie Caspian th< rt sink gradually to the \\ 

svel, and the margins of the sea ar< alow th 



33 8 THE ERA OF COLONIES 

dredging works have been carried out, and long jetties constructed, 
ships have to discharge their cargoes into barges two or three miles from 
the shore. 

This desert region marked for many years the southern limit of the 
Russian empire in Central Asia. A barren waste is a more formidable 
obstacle to an European army than the ocean itself ; and the Turkoman 
tribes of the oases not only refused to acknowledge the dominion of the 
White Czar, but successfully raided up to the very gates of his border forts 
in the spring, when the grass of the steppe afforded forage for their horses. 
The first successful advance across the desert zone was made by Kaufmann, 
whose expeditions followed the belt of fertile land which breaks the desert 
where the Amu Daria (the Oxus of classical times) Mows down from the 
central highlands of Asia to the great lake of the Aral Sea. But in 1878 
the Russians began another series of conquests, starting not from their forts 
on the Oxus, but from their new ports on the southwestern shore of the 
Caspian. 

In this direction the most powerful of the Turkoman tribes were the 
Tekkes of the Akhal oasis. Between their strongholds and the Caspian 
The Country there was a desert nearly 150 miles wide, and then the ridge 

of the Tekke of the Kopet Dagh Mountains. The desert, which stretches 
omans f rom t ne northern shore of the Atrek River, is partly sandy 
waste, partly a tract of barren clayey land, baked hard by the sun ; 
broken by cracks and crevices in the dry season, and like a half-flooded 
brickfield when it rains. The water of the river is scanty, and not good to 
drink. It flows in a deep channel between steep banks, and so closely does 
the desert approach it that for miles one might ride within a hundred yards 
of its clay-banked canon without suspecting that water was so near. Where 
the Sumber River runs into the Atrek the Russians had an advanced post — 
the earthwork fort of Tchad, with its eight-gun battery. Following the 
Sumber, one enters the arid valleys on the south of the Kopet Dagh range. 
On this side the slopes rise gradually ; on the other side of the ridge there 
is a sharp descent, and sometimes the mountains form for miles a line of 
precipitous rocky walls. At the foot of this natural rampart lay the fortified 
villages of the Tekke Turkomans. 

Numerous streams descend from the Kopet Dagh, flowing to the north- 
eastward, and after a few miles losing themselves in the 
The Land of .-.-___. „ , •11 

Akhal sands 01 the Kara Kum desert, between the mountain wall 

and the desert the ground thus watered forms a long, narrow 
oasis — the land of Akhal — to which a local Mussulman tradition says that 
Adam betook himself when he was driven forth from Eden. No doubt 



THE ERA OF COLONIES 

nuch <>f tin.' praise that lias been given to the beauty and fertility of this 

hree-hundred-mile strip of well-water den ground comes from the 

ontrast between it and the endless waste thai i in 

he horizon to the north-eastward. Corn and maize, cotton and wool, form 

-art of the wealth of its peo] le. rhey had the finest horses of all Turkes- 

in, and great herds and flocks of cattle, she I camels. The Herds and 

'he streams turned numerous mills, and were led by a net- villagesof 

;ork of tunnels and conduits through the fields and garden. the Tekkes 

"he villages wen 1 quad with an inner enclosure for the 

attle ; the kibitkas, or tents, and the mud huts of the Tekkes filling the 

pace between the inner and outer walls, and straggling outside in tem- 

orary camps that could be rapidly cleared away in war time. The 

over 100,000 si perhaps 140,000 in all — men. women and chil- 

They were united in a loose con y, acknowledged the lordship 

f the Khan of Merv, who had con of their own villages. Thev 

tided the Russian and Persian I -fully, tl inderin 

itions filling up the part ol the year when they were not busy with more 

upations. Alone- their fertile strip of land ran the caravan 

rack from Merv by Askabad to Kizil Arvat and the Caspian, and when 

hey v. it at war the Tekkes had thus an outlet for 

tieir surplus productions, among which \. autiful car- warriors 

ets, the handiwork of their women. In war they had proved 

elves formidable to all their neighbors. United with the warriors of 

Ierv, the men oi Akhal had cut to pieces a Khivan army in 1S55 and a 

ost of Persians in 1 > 

The conquest of Akhal had long been a subject of Russian ambition. 

t was not merely that they were anxious to put an end once for all to the 

lids of the Turkomans of the great oasis, but they regarded the pos 

ion of this region as a great step towards isolidation of their power 

1 Ada. From Baku, the terminus of their railways in the Caucasus, it was 

asy tn ferry troops across the Caspian. What I 1 was a secure 

:>ad fron port on its eastern shore to their provinces on the Upper 

1 , and anyone who knew untry must have felt that this road would 

ventually run through the Akhal and the Merv - 

Repulse of 
The first effort to subdue the Akhal wan i a Lomakine 

omplete failure. As soon as peace was concluded with and the 

'111-key. alter the war of 1 Gener; lakine was 

ent with a strom to the Caspian, whence he made his way by the 

aravan rout- desert to the strong nomade fori 

epe (" blue hills"), at the foot ol the mountain range mentioned. We 



s 



340 THE ERA OF COLONIES 

shall say nothing more concerning this expedition than that the attempt to 
cake the fort by storm proved a complete failure, and the Russians were 
forced to retreat in disorder. 

To retrieve this disaster General Skobeleff, the most daring of the Rus- 
sian generals, who had gained great glory in the siege of Plevna, was 
selected, and set out in 1880. On the 1st of January, 1881, he came in 
sight of the fort, with an army of 10,000 picked troops, and fifty-four can- 
non. Behind the clay ramparts lay awaiting him from 20,000 to 30,000 of 
valiant nomades, filled with the pride of their recent victory. The first bat- 
Skobeleff and teries opened fire on the 8th, and the siege works were pushed 
the Siege of so rapidly forward that the Russians had gained all the out- 
eo epe works by the 17th. This steady progress was depressing to 
the Turkomans, who were not used to such a method of fighting-. The can- 
nonade continued resistlessly, the wall being breached on the 23d and the 
assault fixed for the next day. Two mines had been driven under the ram- 
part, one charged with gun-powder and one with dynamite, and all wa 
ready for the desperate work of the storming parties. 

Early the next day all the Russian guns opened upon the walls, and a 
false attack was made on the west side of the fort, the men firing inces 
santly to distract the attention of the Turkomans, while the actual column 
of attack was formed and held ready on the east. Another column, 2,000 
strong, waited opposite the south angle, the soldiers ready and eager for th 
assault. 

A little after eleven the mines were fired. The explosion caused mo 

mentary panic among the garrison, and in the midst of the confusion the 

two storming columns rushed for the breaches. But before they could climb 

the heaps of smoking debris the Tekkes were back at thei 
The Fort Car- l , . , ° , . r e -a j 1 

ried by Storm P os ts, and it was through a sharp fire 01 rifles and musket: 

that the Russians pushed in through the first line of defence 

The fight in and around the breaches was a close and desperate struggle 

but as the stormers in front fell, others clambered up to replace them, am 

at the same time Haidaroff, converting his false attack into a real one 

escaladed the southern wall. 

" No quarter !" had been the shout of the Russian officers as they dashe< 

forward at the head of the stormers. The Tekkes expected none. The 

fought in desperate knots, back to back, among the huts andl 

A Frightful tents of the town, but at last they were driven out by the easf 

Massacre J J I 

side. Skobeleff did not make Lomakine's mistake of blocks 

ing their way. He let them go ; but once they were out on the plair| 

the Cossack cavalry was launched in wild pursuit, and for ten long milel 



THE ERA A.V 

ir i Iran! 
well as iii' :n w< :n I nvn or 

than 8,000 Tekkes fell in tl lit. A I this was true, 

Skobi id that he had the slain counted, and that it was so. Six thou 

lundred bodies wi inside the ; eight thousand more 

strewed the ten miles of the plain. 

Skobeleff looked on the 1 e as a n ry element in the con- 

quest "1 hold it as a principle," . "that in Asia the 

duration irtion to the slaughter you inflict on the 

enemy. Tin r you hit them the longer they will keep qui r it." 

No women, he added, were killed by the troops undi com- 

mand, and he set at 1 il x-rty 700 Persian women who 

Tepe. After ten miles the pursuit was stopped. is no further re- 

Not a shot was fired <m either side after that y. The 

chiefs came in at :ndered. The other towns in I irt of the 

: nay. more, within a month • 
Tepe Skobeleff was abl midst 

of the very men who ha We in submission 01 

the Turkomans 

cannot u aid the calm submission with whii Asiatic 

accepts as the deci o mqueror wl nd has I 

him and his. The crumbling ramparts oi Geok I epe remain a 
memorial of the years of warfare which it cost tin- Russians, and the iron 1. 
on which the trains steam | shows how complete 

n the victory. 

beleff I pon his triumph as only the first further con- 

quests. But within eighteen months of the storming of Geok Tepe he 
died suddenly at Moscow. Others have built on the foundations which he 
laid ; and, for good or ill the advance which began with tin; subjugation of 
tiie I ekke Turkomans ;ht the Ru I ntral 

Asia in sight of the passes that lead acn mountain harriers of the 

Indian frontier. 

This conquest was quickly followed by the la; is the 

rt, from the Caspian to t Mohammedan narcand, 

the former capital of the terrible Timur the '! mil the iron horse now 

e heart of ice unknown land its shrill whistle 

perhaps disturbing Timur in his tomb. Across the broad 1 of Si' 

another railroad is being rapidly laid, and extended downward thro 
Manchuria to the 1. orders of China, a stupendous en; the road being 

thousand; of miles in length. Manchuria, the native land of the Chii 
emperors, is now held firmly by Russia, and the ancient empire of P- 
10 



342 THE ERA OE COLONIES 

on the southern border of Turkestan, is threatened with absorption. 
When and where the advance of Russia in Asia will end no man can say, 
Great DeveU perhaps not until Hindostan is torn from British hands and 
opmentof the empire of the north has reached the southern sea. While 
Russia m Asia R uss j a ; n Europe comprises about 2,000,000 square miles, 
Russia in Asia has attained an area of 6,564,77s square miles, and the total 
area of this colossal empire is nearly equal to that of the entire continent of 
North America. 

The final step in colonization — if we may call it by this name — be- 
longs to the United States, which at the end of the century laid its hand on 
two island groups of the Eastern Seas, acquiring Hawaii by peaceful an- 
nexation and the Philippine Islands by warlike invasion. What will be the 
result of this acquisition on the future of the United States it is impossible 
to say, but it brings the American border close to China, and when the 
destiny of that great empire is settled, the republic of the West may 
have something to say. 

At the end of the nineteenth century the work of the colonizing powers 
was fairly at an end. Nearly all the available territory of the earth had 
The Future of been entered upon and occupied. But the work, while in this 
Colonizing sense completed, was in a fuller sense only begun. It was left 
Enterprise r Qr t j le twent j et h century for those great tracts of the earth 
to be brought properly under the dominion of civilization, their abundant 
resources developed, peace and prosperity brought to their fertile soils, and 
their long turbulent population taught the arts of peaceful progress and 
civilized industry. 



CHAPTER XXII. 
How the United States Entered the Century. 

HITHERTO <uir attention lias been directed to the Eastern Hemi« 
ihere, and to the stirring events of nineteenth century history in 
thai : the earth. Bui >cean, in North 

America, a greater < \ - • nt, one filled with more promise for mankind, one 
destined to loom I on the horizon of time, was meanwhile taking 

place, the ommonwealth of the United Stat' 

To this far-extending Republic of the West, a nation almosl 
solely an outgrowth of the nineteenth century, our attention xheOreat 
needs now to ho turned. Its history is one full of greal steps Republic ot 
of progress, illuminated by a hundred events of the highi 
promise and signifii ind it stands to-day as a beacon light of national 

progress and human liberty to the world, "the land of the brave and the 
home of i hi 

A hundred years ago the giant here described was hut a babe, a new- 
born nation just beginn feel the strength of its limbs. It is with this 
section of its history tiiat we are here concerned, its days of origin and 
childhood. Two events of extraordinary significance in human history rise 
is in the final quarter of the i lury, the French Revo 
lution and the American Declaration of Independence and its results. 1 he 
first of these revolutionary events we have dealt with; the second remains 
to he i ire ;i nted. 

1 here is one circumstance thai impresses us most strongly in this greal 
event, the remarkable group of aide men who laid the foundation of the 
American commonwealth. Amon e hands gave The Great Men 

tie first impulse to the ship of state Were men of such lloble who founded 

proportions as George Washington, the t man of the 

century not only in An but in the whole world ; Benjamin Franklin. 

who came closely to the level of Washington in another field .if human 
greatness; Patrick Henry, win v still stir the soul 

like trumpet-blasts ; Thomas fefferson, to whose genius we owe the inimit- 
able " Declaration of Independence;" Thomas Paine, v had the 
point of a sword and the strength of an army John Paul Jones the hero 

343 



344 HOW THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY 

of the most brilliant feat of daring' in the whole era of naval warfare, and 
Alexander Hamilton, whose financial genius saved the infant state in one 
of the most critical moments of its career. These were not the whole of 
that surpassing coterie, but simply in their special fields the greatest, and it 
is doubtful if the earth ever saw an abler group of statesmen than those to 
whom we owe the Constitution of the United States. 

It is not our purpose to tell the story of the American Revolution. 
That lies back of the borders of time within which this work is confined 
But some brief statement of its results is in order, as an introduction to the 
nineteenth century record of the United States. 

It was a country in almost an expiring state when it emerged from the 

„, , fierce death struersde of the Revolution. It had been swept by 

Weakness of ^> & .... 

the States fire and sword, its resources destroyed, its industries ruined, 

After the \i s government financially'bankrupt, its organization in a state 

Revolution , . . ........ .. 

ot tottering weakness, little left it but the courage ot its 

people and the aspirations of its leaders. But in courage and aspiration 

safety and progress lie, and with those for its motive forces the future of 

the country was assured. 

The weakness spoken of was not the only or the worst weakness with 
which the new community had to contend. Though named the United 
States, its chief danger lay in its lack of union. The thirteen recent 
colonies — now states — were combined only by the feeblest of bonds, one 
calculated to carry them through an emergency, not to hold them together 
under all the contingencies of human affairs. Practically they were thirteen 
distinct nations, not one close union ; a group of communities with a few 
ties of common self-interest, but otherwise disunited and distinct. 

"Articles of Confederation and Perpetual Union " had been adopted 
in 1777 and ratified by the agreement of all the states in 17S1. But the 
Confederation was not a union. Each state claimed to be a sovereign com- 
monwealth, and little power was given to the central government. The 
weak point in the Articles of Confederation was that they 

rh ? Artlc,es of rave Congress no power to lay taxes or to levy soldiers. It 
Confederation & ° * ' J 

could merely ask the states for men and money, but must 
wait till they were ready to give them — if they chose to do so at all. It 
could make treaties, but could not enforce them ; could borrow money, but 
could not repay it ; could make war, but could not force a man to join its 
armies ; could recommend, but had no power to act. 

The states proposed to remain independent except in minor particulars. 
They were jealous of one another and of the general Congress. "We are," 
said Washington, "one nation to-day and thirteen to-morrow." That well 



HOW THE UNIT, S ENTERED THE 

expressed the state of the case ; no true union existed ; the 
free to join hands more closely or to drift more widely asund 

Tin- time- from the revolt against the stamp duties in 1775 to the 
inauguration in the National Government under which we live lias 

been called the critical period of Ami rican history. It was a period \. 
displayed the inexperience (.1 the Americans in sound financiering. There 
is hardly an evil in finances that en e illustrated by some event in 

American affairs at that time. The Americans began the war without any 
preparation, they conducted it on credit, and at the end of fourteen ; 
three millions of people w> hundred millions of dollars or more in 

debt. The exact amount will never be known. C State 

1 issued paper currency in unlimited quantities and upon no 

security. The Americans were deceived themselves in believing that their 
products were essential to the welfan of Eu ope, ind thai all 
European nations would speedily m; hem for lase .. ' 

the control ol American commerce. It ma) bat the 

Americans wholly 1 timated their importance in the world at that 

time; they thought that to cut n(i England from American comm 
would ruin England ; they thought that th wal of their commerce' upon 

France would enrich France so much that the French king, for so inestimable 
a privili ell afford to loan them, an them, money. 

The doctrine of the rights of man ran riot in America. Paper currency 

me the infatuation of the day. It was thought that paper currency 
would meet, all the demands for money, would win American independence. 
Even so practical a man as Franklin, then in France, said : " I 1 ol 

paper currency is not understood on this side the water ; and, indeed, the 
whole is a mystery even to the politicians, how we h; able to 

tinue. a war lour years without money, and how we could pay with paper 
that had no previously fixed fund appropriated specifically to redeem it. 
This currency, .is we manage it, is a wonderful machine: it perform 
office wh issue it; it pays and clothe: 1 provides victuals 

and ammunition, and when we are obliged to issue a quantity excessive, ii 
p.n s its< il by depreciation." 

If the taxing power is the most augu vernment, the abuse 

of the taxing power is the most serious sin government can commit. No 
one will deny that the Americans were guilty of committing mi vous 

financial offenses during the critical period of their history. Tiny abused 
libert) bj demanding and by exercising the rights of nationality and at the 
same time neglecting or refusing to burden themselves with the taxation 
try to support nationality. 



346 HOW THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY 

The inability of the Congress of the Confederation to legislate under 

the provisions of the Articles compelled their amendment ; for while the 

exigencies of war had forced the colonies into closer union, — a "perpetual 

league of friendship," — they had also learned additional les- 
Constitutions & L J , . 

of Colonies sons in the theory and administration of local government; 

and Confeder. f or eac h f the colonies, with the exception of Connecticut 

and Rhode Island, had transformed colonial government into 

government under a constitution. The people had not looked to Congres , 

as a central power ; they considered it as a central committee of the States. 

The individualistic tendencies of the colonies strengthened when the 

colonies transformed themselves into commonwealths. 

The struggle, which began between the thirteen colonies and the 
imperial Parliament, was now transformed into a struggle between two 
tendencies in America, the tendency toward sovereign commonwealths and 
the tendency toward nationality. The first commonwealth constitutions 
did not acknowledge the supreme authority of Congress ; there was yet 
lacking that essential bond between the people and their general govern- 
ment, the power of the general government to address itself directly to 
individuals. Interstate relations in 1787 were scarcely more perfect than 
they had been fifteen years before. The understanding of American affairs 
was more common, but intimate political association between the common- 
wealths was still unknown. The liberty of nationality had not yet been 
won. A peculiar tendency in American affairs from their beginning is seen 
in the succession of written constitutions, instruments peculiar to America. 
The commonwealths of the old Confederation demonstrated the necessity 
for a clearer definition of their relations to each other and of the associa- 
tion of the American people in nationality. 

A sense of the necessity for commercial integrity led to the calling of 
the Philadelphia Convention to amend the old Articles, but when the Con- 
vention assembled it was found that an adequate solution of the large 
problem of nationality could not be found in an amendment of the old 
"Articles of Confederation," but called for a new and more vigorous Con- 

m „ . stitution. This Convention combined the associated state 

TheConstitu= . .... , , ,. , , 

tional Con= into a strongly united nation, possessed ot all the powers 01 

vention and nationality, civil, financial and military. It organized a tri- 
its Work . r r- t~* ■ c 

partite government, consisting of Supreme Executive, Su- 
preme Legislative, and Supreme Judicial departments, each with all the 
power "necessary to make it feared and respected." While the Upper 
House of Congress still represented the states as separate commonwealths, 
the Lower House represented the people as individuals; it standing, not 



HOW THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY 317 

(or a group oi distinct communities, but for a nation of people. And to this 
House was given the sole power " to lay and collect taxes, duties, iin] 
and excises, and to pay the debt, and provide for the common defence and 
general welfare ol the United States." 

With this Constitution the United States of America first came into 
existence ; a strong, energetic and capable nation ; its government pi 
of all the power, necessary to the full control of the states, and full ability 
to make itselt respected abroad; its people possessed of all the civil rights 
\ et known or demanded. 

\ et lib people, in their political privileges, were still controlled by the 
constitutions ol the states, and these fixed close restrictions on the right of 
suffrage, the electorate being confined to a small body whose ownership 
of real estate and whose religious opinions agreed with the ideas existing in 

lial times. The property each voter was required to possess differed 
in different commonwealths. In New Jersey he must have u estri . t - 
property to the value- of fifty pounds, in Maryland and the the Right ol 
Carolinas an if fifty acres, in Delaware a freehold Suffrage 

estate of known value, in Georgia an estate ol ten dollars or follow a 

lanic trade; in New York, if he would vote for a member of Assembly 
he must 1 told of twenty pounds, and if he would vote for State 

Senator, it must be a hundred. Massachusetts required an elector to own a 
freehold estate worth sixty pounds or to possess an annual income of three 
pounds. Connecticut was satisfied if his estate was of the yearly value of 
seven dollars, and Rhode Island required him to own the value of one hun- 
dred and thirty-four dollars in land. Pennsylvania required him to be a 
freeholder, but Xew Hampshire and Vermont were satisfied with the pay- 
ment of a poll-tax. 

The number of electors was still further affected by the religious opin- 
ions required of them. In Xew Jersey, in New Hampshire, in Vermont, 
in Connecticut, and in South Carolina, no Roman Catholic could vote ; 
Maryland and Massachusetts allowed •' those ol the Christian religion" to 
exercise the franchise, hut the "Christian religion" in Massa- Religious Quai ; - 
chusetts was of the Congregational Church. North Carolina fications of 
required her electors to believe in the divine authority of the * oters 
Scriptures; Delaware was satisfied with a belief in the Trinity and in the 
inspiration of the Bible ; Pennsylvania allowed those, otherwise qualified, 
to vote who believed "in one Cod, in the reward of good, and the punish- 
ment of evil, and in the inspiration of the Scriptures." In Xew York, in 
Virginia, in Georgia, and in Rhode Island, the Protestant faith was pre- 



343 HO IV THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY 

dominant, but a Roman Catholic, if a male resident, of the age of twenty- 
one years or over, could vote in Rhode Island. 

The property qualifications which limited the number of electors were 
higher for those who sought office. If a man wished to be governor of 
New Jersey or of South Carolina, his real and personal property must 
amount to ten thousand dollars ; in North Carolina to one thousand pounds; 
in Georgia to two hundred and fifty pounds or two hundred and fifty acres 
Property Quali- °f l ar >d \ ' n New Hampshire to five hundred pounds; in Mary- 

fications of land to ten times as much, of which a thousand pounds must 
be of land ; in Delaware he must own real estate ; in New 
York he must be worth a hundred pounds; in Rhode Island, one hundred 
and thirty-four dollars ; and in Massacusetts a thousand pounds. Connec- 
ticut required her candidate for governor to be qualified as an elector, as 
did New Hampshire, Vermont, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. In all the com- 
monwealths the candidate for office must possess the religious qualifications 
required of electors. 

From these statements it is evident that the suffrage in the United 
States was greatly limited when, after the winning of American indepen- 
dence, the Constitution of the United States was framed and the common- 
wealths had adopted their first constitutions of government. It may be 
said that in 1787 the country was bankrupt, and America was without credit, 
Condition of the anc ^ t ^ at °^ a population of three million souls, who, by our 

Country in present ratio, would represent six hundred thousand voters, 
less than one hundred and fifty thousand possessed the right 
to vote. African slavery and property qualifications excluded above four 
hundred thousand men from the exercise of the franchise. It is evident, 
then, that at the time when American liberty was won American liberty had 
only begun ; the offices of the country were in the possession of the few, 
scarcely any provision existed for common education, the roads of the coun- 
try maybe described as impassable, the means for transportation, trade, and 
commerce as feeble. If the struggle for liberty in America was not to be 
in vain, the people of the United States must address themselves directly 
to the payment of their debts, to the enlargement of the franchise, to im- 
provements in transportation, and to the creation, organization, and support 
of a national system of common taxation. It is these great changes which 
p constitute the history of this country during the nineteenth 

Debt and Ex- century. 

tension of js^\\ t nese have been gained since the adoption of the 

Constitution. The remarkable financial operations of Alexander 
Hamilton — by which the crushing load of debt of thenew nation was funded 



HOW THE UNITED S > ENTERED THE ■ RY 349 

for payment in; >ms tariff established as 

in- revenue, and ; for payin claims of the soldiers 

of the Revolution— sav< credit and secured the honor of the nation. 

As regards the franchise:, it w itly extended during the nineteenth 

century. By tin nal was ited property qualifications 

for suffrage had dis; cl in nearlj , and by the middle of 

the century such qualifications had been abandoned in them all. Th< 
religious character had van liirty ye lier. 

As yet, however, the right to vote was limited to "free, white, male 
citizens." Twenty years afterwards, on March r greal ■ 

tension of the righl when, in accordance with the 

Fifteenth Amendment to th ititution, it was proclaimed by Hamilton 

Fish, , that tin: right of citi/ens o( this country to vote 

could not be denied or abri or by any State on 

ount of mdition of servitude. 

Universal suffi far as male citizens w< erned, thus became 

common condition of American political life in 1S70. But the strus 
for liberty in this direction was nol ided. Female citi >out tin' 

middle of the century, to their claim to the same right, and with 

such effort t : d the right to vote at all elections in four ol 

the States — Wyomii Utah, and Idaho — by the end of 1 

tury, and partial rights of suffrage in a majority of the Stat< s. The outlook 
is that b< irs universal sul n its fullest scum.: will b 

'• in tii'- I " nit. (1 States. 

With t ward movements of the millions of human beings who 

have occupied the North Amer ntinent have gone the institutions and 

constitutions of the east, modified in their journey westward by the varying 
conditions of the life of th I ititutions of 177') have 

d into extraordii ;th l>y su< id additions 

made by the more than : nswhichha 

held west of the origin : ti- Development in 

tutions resemble ides rath 1 briel state Consti- 

tuents of the fundamental ide But I 

constitutions, of which tho id of Montana and Wash- 

i on are a type, express verj clearly the opinions ol t : rican people 

in government at the present time. The earnest desire shown in them fo 
accurate definition of the theory and the administration of government pr 
how anxiously the j it all times consider the inter] 

ind with ation, it ma; id, they delegate 

u nt to . 1 ernors 



35° 



(JOW THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY 



The struggle for liberty will never cease, for with the progress of civili- 
zation new definitions of the wants of the people are constantly forming in 
the mind. The whole movement of the American people in government, 
from the simple beginnings of representative government in Virginia, when 
the little' parliament was called, to the present time, when nationality is en- 
throned and mighty commonwealths arc become the component parts of 
the "more perfect union," has been toward the slow but constant realiza- 
tion of the rights and liberties of the people. Education, for 
Progress in the ... 1111 

United States which no commonwealth made adequate provision a century 

ago, is now the first care of the State. Easy and rapid trans- 
portation, wholly unknown to our fathers, is now a necessary condition of 
daily life. Trade has so prospered that the accumulated wealth of the 
country is more than sixty billions of dollars. Newspapers, magazines, 
books and pamphlets are now so numerous as to make it impossible to con- 
tain them all in hundreds of libraries, and the American people have become 
the largest class of readers in the world. 

A century ago there were but six cities of more than eight thousand 
people in this country ; the number is now more than five hundred. Three 
millions of people have become seventy-five millions. The area of the origi- 
nal United States has expanded from eight hundred and thirty thousand 
square miles to four times that area. With expansion and growth and the 
amelioration in the conditions of life, the earnest problems of government 
have been brought home to the people by the leaders in the State, by the 
clergy, by the teachers in schools and colleges, and by the press. 

But though we may be proud of these conquests, we are compelled in 
the last analysis of our institutions, to return to a few fundamental notions of 
our government. We must continue the representative idea based upon 
the doctrine of the equality of rights and exercised by representative assem- 
blies founded on popular elections ; and after our most pleasing contempla- 
tion of the institutions of America, we must return to the people, the founda- 
tion of our government. Their wisdom and self-control, and these alone, 
will impart to our institutions that strength which insures their perpetuity 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Expansion of the United States from Dwarf to Giant 

[\ 1775, when the British colonies in America struck the first blow for 
independence, they were of dwarfish stature as compared with the 

present superb dimensions ol the United States. Though the war 

t'ith Frani 1 had given them possession of the great < )hio Valley, the settled 

lortion of the country lay between the Alleghanies and the Atlantic, and the 

I States were confined to a narrow strip along the ocean 

lorder of the continent. 

But before and during the Revolutionary War pathfinders and pioneers 
at work. Chief among them was the noted hunter Daniel Boone, the 
splorer and settler of the "Dark and Bloody Ground" of Kentucky. 
Jefore him daring men had crossed the mountains, and after him came 
'thers, so thai by the end of the Revolution the hand of civilization was 
rmly laid on the broad forest land of Kentucky and Tennessee. The rich 
ountry north of the Ohio, where the British ; sed a number of forts, 

iras captured for the United States by another daring adventurer, Geo 
logers Clark, who led a body of men down the Ohio, took and held 
Jritish forts, and sa\ northwest to the struggling States. The bound- 

aries of the Unit in iSoo, as established by the treaty of pi 

t'ith Great Britain, extended from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mississippi, 
nd from the 1 Lakes north to Florida on the south. Florida, 

hen held by Spain, include!! a strip of land extending to the Mississippi 
liver, so that the new republic was cut off from the Gulf of Mexico by 
lomain belonging to a 1 country. The area thus acquired by the new 

lation was over 827,000 square miles. It was inhabited in [800 by a popu- 
it ion of 5, 300,00a 

The vast and almost wholly unknown territory west of the Mississippi, 
laimed by France, in virtue of her discoveries and settlements on the gi 
iver, until 1763, when it was ceded to Spain, was held by that country in 
800. This cession gave Spain complete control of the li arse ol the 

Mississippi, since her province of Florida extended to the east hank of the 
trean:. And she held it in a mam 1 proved deeply annoying to the 

Vmerican settlers in the west, to whom free, navigation of the Mississippi 

•f great and growing importance 

35i 



352 EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATES 

These settlers were increasing in numbers with considerable rapidity. 

The daring enterprise of Daniel Boone and other fearless pioneers had 

opened up the fertile lands of Kentucky and Tennessee. The warlike 

boldness of Colonel Clark had gained the northwest territory for the new 

nation. Into this new country pioneer settlers poured, over 

The Settlement the mounta j ns anc j J own the Ohio, and by the opening- of the 
of the West . . 

century villages and towns had been built in a hundred places, 

and farmers were widely felling the virgin woods and planting their grain 

in the fertile soil. Kentucky and Tennessee had already been organized ass 

states, and their admission was quickly followed by that of Ohio, which 

entered the Union in 1803. In the same year an event of the highest 

importance took place, the acquisition of the great Louisiana territory by 

the United States. 

It has been stated above that the action of Spain gave great annoyance 
to the settlers in the country west of the Alleghanies. To these the natural 
commercial outlet to the sea was the Mississippi River, and the free use 
Spain Closes the °^ tms stream was forbidden by Spain, through whose 
Mississippi to country ran its lower course. Spain was so determined to 
retain for herself the exclusive navigation of the great river 
that in 1786 the new American republic withdrew all claim upon it, agree- 
ing to withhold any demand for navigation of the Mississippi for twenty- 
five years. 

This action proved to be hasty and unwise. The West filled up with 
unlooked-for rapidity, and the settlers upon the Mississippi soon began to 
insist on free use of its waters, their irritation growing so great that the 
United States vainly sought in 1793 to induce Spain to open the stream to 
American craft. This purpose was attained, however, in 1795, when a 
treaty was made which opened the Mississippi to the sea for a term of three 
years, with permission for Americans to use New Orleans as a free port of 
entry, and place goods there on deposit. 

Five years later (1800), by an article in a secret treaty between Spain 

and France, the vast province of Louisiana, extending from the source to 

the mouth of the Mississippi River, and westward to the Rocky Mountains, 

was ceded by Spain to France, from which country Spain had 

France Obtains received it in I?6 , Towards the end of 1S01 Napoleon Bona- 
Louisiana ' ° l 

parte, then at the head of French affairs, sent out a fleet and 

army ostensibly to act against San Domingo, but really to take possession 

of New Orleans. 

When the secret of this treaty leaked out, as it soon did, there was 

great excitement in the United States, the irritation being increased by a 



EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STA't 353 

;h order which withdrew the right of deposit of A an- 

ise in New Orleans, granted by the treaty of 1795, and failed to substil 
ny other place for that city, in accordance with the terms of the treaty, 
to strong was the feeling that a Pennsylvania S mator introduced a resolu- 
ion into Congress, authorizing President | 1 to call out 50,000 

lilitia and occupy New Orleans. But ,; ly decided that it 

rould be better and cheaper to buy it than to fight for it, and in January, 
803, made an appropriation of $2,000,000 for its pun I lent 

upon sent James Monroe to 1'aris to co-operate with Robert R. Living- 
ton, United States Minister to France, in tin 

Fortunately for th< I ted States a new war between England and 
: rance was then imminent, in the event of which Napoleon felt that he 
ould not long hold his American acquisition against the powerful British 
avy. Not only New Orleans, but the whole of Louisiana, 
•ould probably be lost to him, and just then money for his ® " na 
•ars was of more consequence than wild lands beyond the 
ea. Therefore, to the surprise of the American Minister, he was asked to 
r for the entire territory. This was on April nth. On the 
2th Monroe reached 1'aris. The two commissioners earnestly debated on 
in- offer. Tlie_\- had n^ authority to dose with such a proposition, but by 
fie time they could receive fresh instructions from Washington Iden 

pportunity might be lost, and Gnat Britain deprive us of the mighty \\ 
in ocean telegraph cable would have been to them an invaluable boon. As 
: was, there was no time to hesitate, and they decided to ith the 

ffer, fixing the purchase price at $10,000,000. Napoleon demanded m 
ml in the end the price fixed upon was $15,000,000, of which $3,750,000 
/as to be paid to American citizens who held claims against Spain. A 
reaty to tins effect was signed April 30 1803. 

The news fell upon Spain like a thunderbolt. She filed a protest 
gainst the treaty -based, probably, on a ondition <>f her cession of 

Louisiana to France, to the effect that it should not be parted with by that 
ountry. But Napoleon was not the man to pay any attention to a prol 
rom a jiower so weak as Spain, and the matter was one with which the 
Jnited States was not concerned. President Jefferson highly now the Pur- 
ipproved of the purchase, and called an extra session ol the chase Was 

r ... , . ■ Received 

>enate for its consideration. It met with some vigorous 

sition in that body, based upon almost absolute ignorance of the value 

>f the territory involved; but it was ratified in October, 1803, and 
isiana became ours. The territory thus easily and cheaply acqu 

idded about 9:0,000 square miles to the United States, more than 



354 EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATES 

doubling its area. It is now divided up into a large number of States, 

and includes much of the most productive agricultural land of the United 

States. 

The members of the Senate who opposed the ratification of the treaty 

of purchase were in a measure justified in their doubt. Almost nothing was! 

known of the country involved, and many idle legends were afloat concerning 

it. Hunters and trappers had penetrated its wilds, but the stories told by 

them had been transformed out of all semblance of truth. In order to 

dispel this ignorance and satisfy these doubts, the President 
Ignorance of , . , , , ... , , f ,, r 

the Country determined to send an exploring expedition to the tar West, 

with the purpose of crossing the Rocky Mountains, seeking 
the head-waters of the Columbia River, and following that stream to its 
mouth. The men chosen to lead this expedition were William Clark — ■ 
brother of George Rogers Clark, of Revolutionary fame — and Merriwether 
Lewis. Both of these were army officers, and they were well adapted for the 
arduous enterprise which they were asked to undertake. 

Lewis and Clark left St. Louis in the summer of 1803. They encamped 
for the winter on the bank of the Mississippi opposite the mouth of the 
The Lewis Missouri River. The company included nine Kentuckians, 

and Clark who were used to Indian ways and frontier life, fourteen 

Expedition soldiers, two Canadian boatmen, an interpreter, a hunter and 
a negro boatman. Besides these, a corporal and guard with nine boatmen 
were engaged to accompany the expedition as far as the territory of the 
Mandans. 

The party carried with it the usual goods for trading with the Indians — 
looking-glasses, beads, trinkets, hatchets, etc., and such provisions as were 
necessary for the sustenance of its members. While the greater part of the 
command embarked in a fleet of three large canoes, the hunters and pack- 
horses followed a parallel route along the shore. In this way, in the spring 
of 1804, the ascent of the Missouri was commenced. In June the 
country of the Osages was reached, then the lands occupied by the Ottawa 
tribes, and finally, in the fall, the hunting grounds of the Sioux. Here the 
leaders of the expedition ordered cabins to be constructed, and camped for 
the winter among the Mandans, in latitude 27 degrees 21 minutes north. 
They found in that country plenty of game, buffalo and deer being abun- 
dant ; but the weather was intensely cold and the expedition was hardly 
prepared for the severity of the climate, so that its members suffered greatly. 
In April a fresh start was made and the party continued to ascend the 
Missouri, reaching the great falls by June. Here they named the tributary 
waters and ascended the northernmost, which they called the Jefferson River, 



EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATUS 

intil further navigation was impossible; then Captain Lewis with three com- 
janions left the expedition in camp and started oul on foot toward the 
mountains, in search of the friendly Shoshone Indians, from whom he 
jxpected assistance in his projected journey across the mountains. 

On the 1 2th of Augusl he discovered the source of the Jefferson River 
in a defile of the Rocky Mountains and crossed the dividing ridge, upon the 
sther side of which his eyes were gladdened by the discovery of a small 
rivulet which (lowed toward tiie west. Here wa f irrefutable "that 

reat backbone of earth" hail been passed. The intrepid explorer 
ivith joy that this little stream danced out toward the setting The Head- 
;un — toward the Paci ean. Meeting a force ol Sho- Watersofthe 
jjhones and persuading them to accompany him on his return ° Ul " 
to the main body of th dition, Captain Lewis sought his companions 

ance more. Cap! tin Clark then went forward to determine their future 
:ourse, and coming to the river which his companion had discovered, he 
named it the Lewis River. 

A number of Indian horses were procured from their red-skinned 
friends and the ex] pushed on to the broad plains of the western 

slope. The latter part of their p ; in the mountains had keen slow 

and painful, because of the early fall of snow, but the plains pn ;ented all 
the charm of early autumn. In October the Kaskaskia River was reached, 
ind, leaving the horses and whatever bag ould be dispensed with in 

charge of the Indians, the command embarked in canoes and descended to 
the mouth of the Columbia River, upon the south bank ol 
which, four hundred miles from their starting point upon L ,Tv"' 

° ' l Columbia 

this stream, they passed the .second, winter. Much of the 

return journey was a tight with hostile Indians, and the way proved to be 
much more difficult than it had been found while advancing toward the 
west. Lewis was wounded before reaching home, by the accidental dis- 
charge of a gun in the hands of one of his force. 

Finally, after an absence of two years, the expedition returned to its 
starting point, the leaders reaching Washington while Congress was in session. 
drams kA land were immediately made- to them and to their subordinates 
Captain Lewis was rewarded also with the governorship ol Missouri. Clark 
was appointed brigadier-general for the territory of Upp< r Louisiana, and in 
i S 1 3 was made governor of Missouri. When this Territory became a State 
he was appointed superintendent of Indian affairs, which office he tilled till 
his death. 

The second acquisition of territory by the United States embraced the 
peninsula of Florida. The Spanish colony of Florida was divided into two 



356 EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATES 

sections, known as Eastern and Western Florida, the latter extending 

from the Appalachicola River to the Mississippi River, and 

Spain's irritat- cutt i ng r ff the Americans of Florida and Alabama from all ac- 
ing Action & 

cess to the Gulf. Spain set up a customhouse at the mouth of 

the Alabama River, and levied heavy duties on goods to or from the 

country up that stream. 

The United States was not willing to acknowledge the right of Spain 

to this country. It claimed that the Louisiana purchase included the region 

east of the Mississippi as far as the Perdido River, — the present western 

boundary of Florida — and in 1S10 a force was sent into this 
es ern on a coun t rv w hich took possession of it, with the exception of the> 

city of Mobile. That city was occupied by General Wilkinson, 
commander-in-chief of the army, in 1813, leaving to Spain only the country 
between the Perdido and the Atlantic Ocean and south of Georgia. 

Throughout these years the purpose had grown in the southern states 
to gain this portion of the Spanish dominion, as well as Western Florida, 
for the United States. On January 15 and March 3, 1811, the United 
States Congress passed in secret — and its action was not made known 
until 1 818 — acts which authorized the President of the United States 
to take " temporary possession " of East Florida. The commissioners 
appointed under these acts, Matthews and Mitchell, both Georgians, stirred 
up insurrection in the coveted territory, and, when President Madison 
refused to sustain them, the state of Georgia formally pronounced Florida 
OeneraUackson needful to its own peace and welfare, and practically declared 
invades East- war on its private account. But its expedition against Florida 

came to nothing. In 1S14, General Andrew Jackson, then in 
command of United States forces at Mobile, made a raid into Pensacola, 
and drove out a British force which had been placed there. He afterwards 
restored the place to the Spanish authorities and retired. Four years 
after, during the Seminole war, Jackson, annoyed by Spanish assistance 
given to the Indians, again raided Eastern Florida, captured St. Marks and 
Pensacola, hung Arbuthnot and Ambruster, two Englishmen who were 
suspected of aiding the Seminoles, as " outlaws and pirates," and again 
demonstrated the fact that Florida was at the mercy of the United States. 
The action of Jackson was unauthorized by the government, and his 

hanging the Englishmen without taking the trouble to make 

% J? rc .f s<i sure °f their guilt caused a feeling of hostile irritation in 
or Florida & ° 

England. But it had by this time grown quite evident to Spain, 
both that it could not hold Florida in peace and that this colony was of 
very little value to it. In consequence it agreed to sell the peninsula to the 



EXPANSION OF THE UNITED SPA IIS 

■ 

United Status for the sum of $5000,000, the treaty being signed February 

22, 1 S 19 15}- this treat}- Spain also gave up all claim to the country 

west of the Louisiana purchase, extending from the Rock}' Mountains 

to the Pacific Ocean. The purchase of Florida added 59,268 square miles to 

the United States, and the way was cleared for the subsequent acquisition 

of the Oregon country. 

The next accession of territory came in 1845, when Texas was added 

to the dominion of the United States. This country had, since 1821, been 

one of the states of the Mexican Republic. But American frontiersmen, 

of the kind calculated to foment trouble, soon made their way across the 

borders, increasing in numbers as the years passed on, until Texas had a 

considerable population of United States origin. Efforts were made to 

purchase this country from Mexico, $l,oco,ooo being offered in 1827 and 

$5,000,000 in 1829. These were declined, and in 1833 Texas adopted a 

constitution as a stale of the Mexican republic. Two years 

later Santa Anna, the president of Mexico, was made dictator, Freedomand 

and all state constitutions were abolished. Irritated by this, is Annexed to 

the American inhabitants declared the independence of Texas * e nite 

' States 

in 1836, and after a short war, marked by instances of savage 
cruelty on the part of the Mexicans, gained freedom for that country. Texas 
was organized as a republic, but its people soon applied for annexation to the 
United States. This was not -ranted until 1845. 'I ne territory added to 
this country by the admission of Texas amounted to 376,133 square miles. 

In the following year another large section of territory was added to 
the rapidly growing United States. The Louisiana purchase ran indefi- 
nitely westward, but came to be considered as bounded on the west by the 
Rocky Mountains, Spain retaining a shadow}' claim over the country \ 
of that range. This exceedingly vague claim was abandoned in the Florida 

purchase treat}', and the broad Oregon country was left 

■ , 'i-i 1 t • 1 t- • 1 1 '• 1 • 1 The Oregon 

without an owner. I he I mted States, indeed, might justly country 

have claimed ownership on the same plea advanced for new 

ins elsewhere — namely, that of discovery and exploration. Captain 

Grey, in his ship, the Columbia, carried the starry flag to its coast in 

1792, and was the first to enter and sail up its great river, which he 

named after his vessel. In 1805 the country was traversed and explored by 

Lewis and Clark. In 1S11 John Jacob Astor founded the settlement of 

Astoria at the mouth of the Columbia, and sent hunters in search of furs 

through the back country. And n 1819 the right over the country 

held by Spain was transferred by treaty to the United States. 



358 EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATES 

These various circumstances would have established a prescriptive 
right to the country concerned as against other countries, had any thought of 
claiming such a right been entertained. But no man, statesman or com- 
moner, thought the country worth the value of even a paper claim, and it 
was left unconsidered and unthought of until the century was well advanced. 
Then, after the Hudson Bay Company had gained control of Astoria, and 
had begun to fill the country with fur hunters, a living sense of the value 
of this great region came to the mind of one man. 

This was Dr. Marcus Whitman, a missionary physician among the 
Indians of the Columbia River region. He discovered that the Hudson 
Bay Company was making efforts to bring permanent settlers there, and 
that it proposed to claim the country for Great Britain. At once the 
energetic doctor set out for Washington, crossing the vast stretch of 
country from the Pacific to the Atlantic on horseback and 
Ride traversing the Rocky Mountains in the dead of winter. It 

was a long and terrible journey, full of perils and hardships, 
but he accomplished it in safety, and strongly urged the government at 
Washington to lay claim to the country. Even then it was hard to arouse 
an interest in the statesmen concerning this far-off territory, so the brave 
pioneer went among the people, told them of the beauty of the country 
and the fertility of its soil, and on his return, in 1843, took with him an 
emigrant train of nearly a thousand persons. This settled the question. 
The newcomers formed a government of their own. Others followed, and 
the question of ownership was practically settled. In 1845 there were some 
7,000 Americans in Oregon and only a few British. By that time a stern 
determination had arisen in the people of this country to retain Oregon. A 
claim was made on the whole western region up to the parallel of 54 degrees 
40 minutes, the southern boundary of Russian America, and the political 
war-cry of that year was "fifty-four forty or fight." In 1846 the question 
was settled by treaty with Great Britain, the disputed country 
Acquired being divided at the forty-ninth parallel. The northern por- 

tion became British Columbia, the southern Oregon. In this 
Way it was that the United States spanned the continent and established its 
dominion from ocean to ocean. The tract acquired measured about 255,00c 
square miles. It now constitutes the States of Oregon, Washington and 
Idaho. 

The United States grew with extraordinary rapidity in the decade with 
which we are now concerned, the acquisition of Texas and Florida being 
followed in 1848 by another great addition of territory, much larger than 
either. This came as the result of the annexation of Texas. 



EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATES 359 

Mexico had never acknowledged the independ the "Lone Star 

Republic," and was deeply dissatisfied at its acquisition by the United 
States, which it looked upon as an unwarranted interference in its private 
affairs. The strained relations between the two countries were made more 
stringent by a dispute as to the western bound. try of Texas, both countries 
claiming the strip of land between the Rio Grande and yVarWith 
Nueces Rivers. The result was a war, the description oi Mexicoand 
which must be left for a later chapter. It will suffice here 
to say that the American troops marched steadily to victory, and at: the 
end of the war held two large districts of northern Mexico, those oi New- 
Mexico and California. The occupation of these Mexican states gave this 
country a warrant, to claim them as the prizes ol victory. 

But there was no disposition shown to despoil tin- • 1 party with- 

out compensation. An agreement was made to pay Mexico $15,000,000 
for New Mexico and California, and to assume debts owed l>y Mexico ti 
United States citizens amounting to about $3,000,000. The territory thus 
acquired was 545,783 square miles in extent. Of its immense California and 
value we need scarce speak. It will suffice to -ay that it gave New Mexico 
the United Stales the gold mines of California and the silver 
mines of Nevada, together with the still more valuable fertile fields of the 
California lowlands. Five years afterwards, to settle a border dispute, 
another tract of land, south of New Mexico, 45.535 square miles in extent, 
was purchased for the sum of $10,000,000. This is known as the Gadsden 
purchase, the treaty being negociated by James Gadsden. Thus in less 
than ten years the United States acquired more than 1,220,000 square 
miles of territory, increasing its domain by nearly three-fourths. These 
new acquisitions carried it across tin- continent in a broad band, giving it 
a coast line on the Pacific nearly equal to that on the Atlantic, and adding 
enourmously to its mineral and agricultural wealth. 

Still another extensive acquisition remain be made. Long before, 

when the daring pioneers of Russia overran Siberia, parties of them en 
the narrow Bering Strait and took possession of the northwestern section 
of the American continent. This territory, lone- known as Russian America, 
embraced the broad peninsular extension west of the :41st degree of west 
longitude, and a narrow strip of land stretching down LSt The Acquistion 

as far south as the parallel of 54 d . 40 minutes. It of Russian 

included also all the coast islands and the Aleutian Archi- 
pelago, with the exception of Copper ami Bering Islands on the Siberian 

it. This territory was of little value or advantage to Russia, and in 1S67 



360 EXPANSION OF THE UN/TED STATES 

that country offered to sell it to the United States for $7,200,000. The 
offer was accepted without hesitation, the result being- an addition of 577.000 
square miles to our territory. 

As regards the value of this acquisition something more remains to 
be said. The active Yankee prospectors have found Alaska — as the new 
territory was named — far richer than its original owners dreamed of. It 
was like the story of California repeated. First were the valuable fur seals. 
which haunted certain islands of Bering Sea. Then were the fur animals of 
the mainland. To these must be added the wealth of the rivers, which 
were found to swarm with salmon and other food fishes Next may be 
named the forests, which cover the coast regions for hundreds of square 

miles. Finally, the country proved to be rich in mineral 
Alaska wealth, and especially in gold. The recently discovered gold 

deposits lie principally on the British side of the border, the 
Klondike diggings — developed in 1897 — being in Canada. But gold has 
been mined in Alaska for years, and probably exists on most of the tribu- 
taries of the Yukon River, so that the country may yet prove to be a 
second California in its golden treasures. 

The final acquisition of territory by the United States came in 1899, as 
a result of the Spanish-American War of 1898. The treaty of peace gave 
to this country a series of highly fertile tropical islands, consisting of Porto 
Rico in the West Indies, and the Philippine Archipelago in the Asiatic 
Seas. To these must be added a temporary protectorate over, and possibly 
the future ownership of, the broad and fertile West Indian Island of Cuba. 
In 1898 there came by peaceful means another accession of territory, the 
Hawaiian group of islands in the Central Pacific. These, with some islands 
of minor importance — including Guam, in the Ladrone group, also acquired 
from Spain — constitute the recent island accessions of the United States. 

Their areas are: Porto Rico, 3,530; Hawaii, 6,564; and the 

Island Acquis!- „, ... .. , . , , , 

tions Phnippmes, 116,000 square nines; making a total 01 about 

1 26,000 square miles. As a consequence of those various acces- 
sions of territory, the United States now has an area of, in round numbers, 
3,732,000 square miles, more than four times its area in 1S00. As a result 
of these several acquisitions this country has grown from one of the smaller 
nations to nearly the largest nation in area, on the earth, while its population 
has increased from 5,300,000 in 1800 to about 75,000,000 in 1900. Its few 
small cities at the beginning of the century have been replaced by a con- 
siderable number of large ones, three of them with more than 1,000,000 in- 
habitants each, while New York, the largest, is now the second city in popu- 
lation on the earth. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

The Development of Democratic Institutions in 

America 

MODERN democracy is often looked upon as something peculiarly 
secular, unreligious, or even irreligious in its origin. In truth, how- 
ever, it has its origin in religious aspirations quite as much as modern 
art or architecture or literature. To the theology o( Calvin, the founder of 
the Republic oi G< neva, grafted upon the sturdy independence of English 
and Scotch middle classes, our American democracy owes lis birth. James I. 
well app iated that the principles of uncompromising Protestantism 
as incompatible with monarch}- as with the hierarchy which the}- swept 
aside. Each man by his theology was brought into direct personal respon 
sibility to his God, without the intervention of priest, bishop, or pope, and 
without any allegiance to his king except so far as it . ' with his a! 

ance to the King of kings. Macaulay has struck this note of Puritan 
republicanism when he s.iys that the Puritans regarded them- _, „ ,. . 

The Religious 

selves as " Kings by the right of an earlier creation , priests origin of 
by the interposition of an Almighty hand." As John Fiske Modern Dem- 
says, James Stuart always treasured up in his memory the day 
when a Puritan preacher caught him by the sleeve and called him " God's 
silly vassal." " A Scotch Presbytery," cried the kin-, "agrees as well with 
monarchy as God and the devil. Then [ack and Tom ami Will and Dick 
shall meet, and at their pleasure censure me and my council and all our 
proceedings ! " 

But the democracy which was founded in Xew England as the lc 
outcome of the religious principles for which the Puritans left Old England 
was not democracy .is we know it to-day. The Puritans, for the most part. 
believed as Much in divinely appointed rulers as the monarchs against whom 
they rebelled ' but these divinely appointed rulers were to be the "elect of 
God" — those who believed as they did, and joined with their organizations 
to establish His kincrdom on earth. For this reason we find the Massachu- 
setts Colon\- as early as 163 1 deciding that, " no man shall he admitted to 
the freedom of this body politic but such as are members of so i the 

churches within the limits of the same." The government in short, was 

361 



362 DEVELOPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS 

simply a democratic theocracy, and, as the colony grew in numbers, the 
power came to be lodged in the hands of the minority. There were, how- 
ever, among the clergy of Massachusetts men who believed in democracy as 
we understand it to-day. Alexander Johnson, in his history of Connecticut, 
says with truth that Thomas Hooker, who led from Massachusetts into 
The Political Connecticut the colony which established itself at Hartford, 
Conceptions laid down the principle upon which the American nation long 
s generations after was to be established. When Governoi 
Winthrop, in a letter to Hooker, defended the restriction of the suffrage 
on the ground that " the best part is always the least, and of that best part 
the wiser part is always the lesser," the learned and generous-hearted pastor 
replied : " In matters which concern the common good, a general council, 
chosen by all to transact business which concerns all, I conceive most suit- 
able to rule, and most safe for the relief of the whole." The principles of 
our republicanism were never better stated until Lincoln in his oration at 
Gettysburg made his appeal that this nation might be consecrated anew in 
the fulfillment of its mission, and that government " from the people, for 
the people, by the people " might not perish from the earth. Both Honker 
and Lincoln had a supreme belief in the wisdom of the plain people in the 
matters which affect their own lives. The rank and file of the people have 
the surest instinct as to what will benefit or injure the rank and file of the 
people, and when upon them is placed the responsibility of determining 
what their government shall be, they are educated for self-government. In 
the colony which Thomas Hooker founded upon these principles there was 
found at the time of the Revolution more political wisdom, more genius for 
self-government, and more devotion to the jaatriotic cause, than in any other 
of the thirteen colonies. 

At the time of the Revolution, however, there was another democracy 
besides that of New England which enabled the colonies successfully to 
resist the Government of George III. This was the democracy of the planters 
of the South. The democracy of the Southern colonies was not, like that 

of New England, the democracy of collective self-government. 
hTthefsouth ' nit ^ le democracy of individual self-government, or, rather, of 

individual self-assertion. In fact, it would hardly be too much 
to say that many of the Virginia planters who espoused so warmly and 
fought so bravely in the cause of liberty were not inspired by the spirit of 
democracy at all, but rather by the spirit of an aristocracy which could brook 
no control. 1 hese southern planters were the aristocrats of the American 
Revolution. In New York City, and even in Boston and Philadelphia, tne 
wealthiest merchants were strongly Tory in their sympathies In New 



DEVELOPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS 



3 6 .S 



York ii was affirmed by General Greene that two-thirds of the land belonged 
to men in sympathy with the English and out of sympathy with their fellow 
countrymen. In these cities it was the plain people and the poorer classes 
who furnished most of the uncompromising patriots, but in the South men 
of fortune risked their fortunes in the cause; of independence. These men 
wen- slave owners, and the habit of mastery made them fiercely rebellious 
when George III. attempted in any way to tyrannize over them. Many of 
them were the descendants of the English nobility, and as such they acknow- 
ledged no superiors. Naturally, then, in the struggle for liberty they 
furnished th rs of the colonists, both North and South; and the agri- 

cultural classes, whether rich or poor, were naturally on the side of self- 
government, for their isolation had from the first compelled them to be 
self-governing. 

The first half century of tin; political history of the United States con- 
sisted rather in the development el' the political rights of the individual 
citizen than of the loyalty which all owed to the American nation. Nothing- 
is so difficult as to keep in mind that the government of the colonies at the 

close of the Revolution was not what it is to-day, and that 

What Was 
democracy as we know it was regarded as the dream of Thought of 

theorists. Some of the members of the Federal Convention Democracy in 

d-eply distrusted the common people. Elbridge Gerry, of convention 
Massachusetts, declared that "The people do not want 
suffrage, but are the dupes of pretended patriots;" and those who were at 
all in sympathy with him prevented, as the)- imagined, the election of the 
President by the people themselves, and did prevent the election of the 
United States Senators by the people-. Some of them were even opposed 
to the election of the House of Representatives directly by the people; but, 
fortunately, even Hamilton sided with Madison and Mason, when they 
urged that our House of Commons ought to have at he-art the rights and 
interests of, and be: bound, by the manner of their election, to be the repre- 
sentatives of even class of people. But by "every class of people" the 
framers of the Constitution from the more- conservative of the States meant 
simply every class of freeholders. 

In Virginia none could vote except those who owned fifty acres of land. 
In New York, to vote for Governor or State Senator, a freehold worth $250 
clear ol mortgage was necessary, and to vote for Assembly- p rop ertyQuaii- 
men a freehold of $50 or the payment of a yearly rent of fications for 
$10 was necessary. liven Thomas Jefferson, who was the 
Democratic philosopher of the Revolutionary period, did not strenuously 
insist that the suffrage must be universal, and. it was not for a half century 



'£>" 



364 Dh I EEGPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTh > A.s 

that it became universal, even among' white males. In the State of New 
York these restrictions existed until the adoption of the Constitution of 
1821, and even this Constitution merely reduced the privileges of land 
owners. Old Chancellor Kent, the author of " Kent's Commentaries," 
declared in this convention that he would not "bow before the idol of uni- 
versal suffrage," the theory which he said had "been regarded 
Chanceilor . . . 

Kent's Views with terror by the wise men of every age," and whenever tried 
on Universal i iac j brought "corruption, injustice, violence, and tyranny." 
" If universal suffrage were adopted," he declared, " prosperity 
would deplore in sackcloth and ashes the delusion of the day." The 
horrors of the French Revolution were always held up by conservatives to 
show that the people could not be trusted, and the learned author of the 
" Commentaries,"' which every lawyer has pored over, maintained that, if 
universal suffrage should be adopted, "The radicals of England, with the 
force of that mighty engine, would sweep away the property, the laws, and 
the people of that island like a deluge." Not until between 1S40 and 1850 
did universal suffrage among the whites come to be accepted in the older 
States. 

During the first half century of our history it was the Democratic 
party, the party of Jefferson, which was on the side of these extensions of 
popular rights. The principle of this party was that each State ought to 
legislate for itself, with the least possible control from the central govern- 
ment ; that each locality ought to have its freedom of local government 
extended ; and that each individual should be self-croverninpf, with the same 
rights and privileges for all. As regards foreign affairs, it was charac- 
terized by a " passion for peace, ' : and an abiding hostility toward a costly 
army and navy. Jefferson believed that the way to avoid wars, and the way 
to be strong, should war become inevitable, was by the devotion of the 
pt ople to productive industry, and not by burdening them to rival the 
powers of Europe in the strength of their armaments. In the year 1800, 
the party which rallied to his support — then called the Republican part)', 
but generally spoken of as the Democratic party — triumphed over the 
Federalists. 

In New England alone did Federalism remain strong at the close of 

_ . .. . Jefferson's first administration. In that section the calvinistic 

Federalism and J 

Democracy clergy, who had done so much for the establishment of Ameri- 

in New eng- can democracy, fought fiercely aaainst its extension. Teffer- 
land 

son's followers demanded the separation of Church and State 

and the abolition of the religious qualifications for office holding, which 

were then almost as general as property qualifications. He was known to 



DEMOCRATIC INST/7 ! TIONS 

be in sympathy with the French revolution, ami was therefore denounced 
both in religion and in politics. We cannot wonder, therefore, 
that in the section in which the clergy were the real rulers, feffersonian 
democracy was regarded with hatred and contempt. Vermont alone, among 
the New England States, was from tint first thoroughly democratic, and 
this was because in \ ermont there was no established aristocracy, either i»f 
education or of wealth. In Connecticut, which under clerical leadership hail 
once been the stronghold of advanced democracy, we find President Dwight 
expressing a sentiment common not only to the clergy but to the educ 
classes generally, when he declared that "the great object of Jacobinism, 
both in its political and moral revolution, is to destroy every race of civili- 
zation in the world." " In the triumph of feffersonianism," he said, "we have 
now reached a consummation of democratic blessings ; we have a country 
blockheads and knave 

But which in New England were at first received only by the 

pool and the ignorant, were in the very air which Americans breathed. The 
new States which were ed at the West were a .Ay democratic 

from the outset. In the Northwest Territory the inequalities New | deas in 
against which feffersonian democracy protested never gained the New 
a foothold, lb-re, wh of Ohio was organized " 

during Jefferson's first administration, the union of Church and State was 
not thought of, and no religious qualifications whatever for the office of 
1 ernor were exacted. Property qualifications were almost as completely 
set aside. While in some of the older States the Governor had to possess 
,£5,000, and even ,£10,000, Ohio's Governor was simply required to be a 
resident and an owner of land. As regards inheritances, the English law 
of primogeniture which remained unaltered in some of the older St. 
and in New England generally took the form of a double portion to the 
oldest son, was complete!)' set aside, and all children of the same parents 
became entitled to the same rights. That Ohio thus led the way in the 
democratic advance was due to the fact that its constitution was framed 
when th< i had already become ascendant in the hearts of the people, 

and the failure of the clergy of New England was due to their trying to 

alive institutions which were the offspring of another age, and co 
not lone survive it. 

For its distrust of the new democracy New England Federalism paid 
heavily in the isolation, defeat, and destruction which shortly awaited it. 
When the new democratic administration had fully reduced Federal taxation 
and shown its capacity for government, the more liberal-minded of the 
Federalists went over to the Democrats. Even Massachusetts gave a 



3 66 OE ' *EL OPMENT OF DEMOCRA TIC INSTITUTIONS 

majority for Jefferson in 1804, and when the extreme Federalists became 

_, „ more extreme through the loss of their Liberal contingent, 

The Decay and & ...... 

Disappear. and called the Hartford Convention, in 18 14, Federalism died 

anceof Fed= f Jts own excesses. The policy of the democratic adminis- 
tration toward England may not have been wise, but the pro- 
posal of secession in order to resist it made Federalism almost synonymous 
with toryism and disloyalty. 

For a number of years after the close of the war of 181 2 there was 
really only one political party in the United States. In 1824, when the con- 
test was so close between Jackson, Adams and Clay, each of these contest- 
ants was a " Democratic Republican," and it would have been hard to tell 
what questions of policy divided their followers ; though Jackson's followers, 
as a rule, cared most for the extension of the political rights of the poorer 
classes, and least for that policy of protection which the war had made an 
important issue, by cutting off commerce and thus calling into being exten- 
sive manufacturing interests. That the followers of Clay 

A Period With- .. , r . . 111 t i 

out a Party hnally voted lor Adams may have been due to sympathy upon 

this question of the tariff. In 1828 something akin to party 

lines were drawn upon the question of the national bank, and the victory of 

Jackson provoked the hostility of the masses toward that institution, which 

certainly enriched its stockholders to such an extent as to make them a 

favored class. The Tariff Act, passed in 1828, made the tariff question 

thenceforth the dividing question in our national politics until slavery took 

its place. 

Most of the absolute free-traders were supporters of Jackson, but when 
South Carolina passed its Nullification Act as a protest against the "tariff 
of abominations," as it was called, President Jackson promptly declared that 
" the Union must and shall be preserved," and forced the recalcitrant State 
to renew its allegiance to the National Government. By the end of Jack- 
son's administration there were again two distinct parties in the United 
States; the one advocating a high tariff and extensive national improve- 
ments by the Federal Government, and the other advocating a low tariff 
and the restriction of national expenditures to the lowest possible limit. 
The former part)' — the Whig — was, of course, in favor of a liberal construc- 
tion of the Constitution and the extension of powers to the National Gov- 
ernment, while the latter advocated "strict construction" and "State 
rights." 

Jackson belonged to the latter party, and in 1836 was able to transfer 
the succession to Van Buren. But in 1840 the Whigs swept the country, 
electing Harrison and Tyler after the most picturesque Presidential 



DEVELOPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTiTUTIi 



367 



campaign ever known in America. All the financial ills from which the 
country was suffering were for the time attributed to Van Buren's economic 
policy, and his alleged extravagance at the White House _, , , 

1 , . . . Rise of the 

enabled the Whigs to arouse the enthusiasm of the poor for Democratic 

their candidate, who was claimed to live in a log cabin and and Whig 
drink hard cider. During the next four years, however, there 
was a reaction, and in 1844 Polk was elected upon the platform on which 
Wan Buren had stood. It is true that in Pennsylvania the Democratic cam- 
paign cry was, " Polk, Dallas and the tariff of '42," which was a high tariff; 
but in most of the country 1 )emi icracy meant " free trade and sailors' rights." 
From this time on, the Whig party grew weaker and the Democratic 
part\- stronger. It is true that the V\ lected General Taylor in 1 

The revenue tariff law passed by the Democrats in 1846 was not char 
until the still lower tariff of 1857 was enacted. By 1852 the Whig party 
had so declined that it was hardly stronger than the old Federalist party at 
the close of Jefferson's first term. But just as the Dei ic party became 

able to boast of its strength, a new party came into being which adopted the 
principles of the free-soil wing of the old Democratic part}-, chose the 
name of "Republican Party," swept into its ranks the remnants of various 

political organizations of the past, and in its second national _, „ . . 

r . & . * The Origin ana 

campaign elected Abraham Lincoln to the presidency. In this character of 
readjustment of parties the pro-slavery Whigs went over to theRepubli- 
the Democrats and the anti-slavery Democrats went over to 
the Republicans. The bolting Democrats claimed, with truth, to maintain 
the principles held by their party from the time of Jefferson down, but the 
part\- as a whole followed the interests of its most powerful element instead 
of the principles of its founder. In the States from Ohio west, where upon 

imic qu< lions the Democratic party had swept everything by increas- 
ing majorities since 1840, the bolting element was so great that all of these 
States were landed in the Republican column. One great Church — the 
Methodist — which before had been, as a rule, Democratic in politics, now 
became solidly Republican. 

From time to time, in the succeeding years, a variety of political organ- 
izations, of minor importance, rose and declined. But none of national sig- 
nificance were added to the two great parties until the Presidential campaigns 
of 1892 and 1896, when a new organization, known as the People's party, 
came into prominence. The principles distinguishing it from The People's 
the old Democratic and Republican pari its demand Party and its 

for a currency issued by the general Government only, without nnciples 
the intervention of banks of issue, and the tree and unrestricted coinage of 



368 DE I 'ELOPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS 

silver and gold at the ratio of 16 to i, regardless of foreign nations. It de 
manded further that the Government, in payment of its obligations, shoulc 
use its option as to the kind of lawful money in which they were to be paid 
should establish and collect a graduated income tax ; and should own anc 
operate the railroads and telegraph lines in the interests of the people. It; 
general tendency was to favor what is known as " Paternalism in govern 
ment," the existing form in America of what is known as Socialism ir 
Europe. This party found its chief strength among the farmers, who be 
lievecl it possible and right for the Government to pass laws to suppress 
" trusts " and monopolies, and also to favor the agricultural and laboring 
classes. 

The history of American politics up to the time of the introduction ol 
the new economic questions by the labor unions in the East, and the farmer's 
unions in the West and South, has been the history of the gradual extension 
of political rights. The Federalist party gave us the Constitution ; the old 
Democratic party gave us white manhood suffrage ; the Republican party 
gave us universal suffrage. What the People's party may give us remains 
for the future to demonstrate. The glory of America's past is that she hal 
been continually progressing ; that she has proven to the world the capacity 
of the whole people for self-government. 



CHATPER XXV 

America's Answer to the British Claim of the Right 

of Search. 

BY their first war with Gn tain our forefathers asserted and main- 

tained their right to independent national existence; by their second 
war with Great Britain, they claimed and obtained equal considera- 
ion in international affairs. The War of 1812 was not based on a single 
:ause; it was undertaken from mixed motives, — partly political, partly com- 
nercial, partly patriotic. It was always unpopular with a great number of 
he American people ; it was far from logical in some of its positions ; it was 
jerhaps precipitated by party clamor. But, despite all these facts, it remains 
:rue that this Avar established once for all the oosition of the United States 
is an equal power among the powers. Above all — clearing away the petty 
>olitical and partisan aspects of the struggle — we find that in The Cause* 
t the United States stood for a strong, sound, and universally of the War 
)eneficial principle, that of the rights of neutral nations in ot ' l2 
ime of war. " Free ships make free goods" is a maxim of international 
aw now universally recognized, but at the opening of tin- century it was a 
heoiy, supported, indeed, by good reasoning, but practically disregarded by 
he most powerful nations. It was almost solely to the stand taken by the 
Jnited States in 1812 that the final settlement of this disputed principle 
if as due. 

The cause of the War of 1812, which appealed most strongly to the 
latriotic feelings of the common people, though, perhaps, not in itself so 
ntrinsically important as that just referred to, was unquestionably the 
mpressment by Great Britain of sailors from American ships. No doubt 
freal numbers of English sailors did desert from their naval vessels and 
ivail themselves of the easier service and better treatment ol the American 
nerchant ships. Great Britain, in the exigencies ot her des- _ ... . 

" ' J 9 British 

>crate contest with Napoleon, was straining every nerve to impressment 

Strengthen her already powerful navy, and the press-gang was of American 

1 , • ' 1- i- , , , 1 . Seamen 

onstantly at work m English seaports. Once on board a 

British man-of-war, the impressed sailor was subject to overwork, bad rations, 

tnd the lash. That British sailors fought as gallantly as they did undei 

3 6 9 



370 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH 

this regime will always remain a wonder. Rut it is certain that they deserted 
in considerable numbers, and that they found in the rapidly-growing com- 
mercial prosperity of our carrying trade a tempting chance of employment. 
Great Bricain, with a large contempt for the naval weakness of the 
United States, assumed, rather than claimed, the right to stop our merchant 
vessels on the high seas, to examine their crews, and to take as her own 
any British sailors among them. This was bad enough in itself, but the 
way in which the search Avas carried out was worse. Every form of insolence 

and overbearing was exhibited. The pretense of claiming 

Outrages Upon _ & . L /■ i j 

American British deserters covered what was sometimes barefaced and 

Ships and outrageous kidnapping of Americans. The British officers 

Sailors rr s 

went so far as to lay the burden of proof of nationality in each 
case upon the sailor himself ; if he were without papers proving his identity 
he was at once assumed to be a British subject. To such an extent was this 
insult to our flag carried, that our Government had the record of about 
forty-five hundred cases of impressment from our ships between the years 
of 1803 and 1S10; and when the War of 181 2 broke out the number of 
American sailors serving against their will in British war vessels was vari- 
ously computed to be from six to fourteen thousand. It is even recorded 
that in some cases American ships were obliged to return home in the 
middle of their voyages because their crews had been so diminished in 
number by the seizures made by British officers that they were too short- 
handed to proceed. In not a few cases these depreciations led to blood- 
shed. 

The greatest outrage of all, and one which stirred the blood of Ameri- 
cans to the fighting point, was the capture of an American war vessel, the 
Chesapeake, by the British man-of-war, the Leopard. The latter was by far 
the more powerful vessel, and the Chesapeake was quite unprepared for 

-,-._ ice ■ * action ; nevertheless, her commander refused to accede to a 
The Affair of , , . . " 

thcChesa- demand that his crew be overhauled in search for British 
peake"and ^deserters. Thereupon the Leopard poured broadside after 
broadside into her until her flag was struck. Three Americans 
were killed and eighteen wounded ; four were taken away as alleged desert- 
ers ; of these, three were afterwards returned, while in one case the charge 
was satisfactorily proved and the man was hanged. The whole affair was 
without the slightest justification under the law of nations and was in itself 
ample ground for war. Great Britain, however, in a quite ungracious and 
tardy way, apologized and offered reparation. This incident took place six 
years before the actual declaration of war. But the outrage rankled during 
all that time, and nothing did more to fan the anti-British feeling which was 



SWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARt H 371 

already so strong- in the rank and file of Americans, especially in tin 
gratic (or, as it was then often called, the Republican) party. It was such 
deeds as this that led Henry Clay to exclaim, " Not content with seizing 
upon all our property which falls within her rapacious grasp, the personal 

-i'.'hts of our countrymen — rights which must forever he sa< r e tramp- 

ed on and violated by the I ol our seamen. What are wi 

gain by war? What arc we not to lose by peace ? Commerce, character, a 
uition's best treasure, honor !" 

The interference with American commerce was also a serious threat to 
:he cause of peace. In the early years of the century Great Britain was at 
ivar not only with France, but with other European countries. Both Great 
Britain and France adopted in practice the n ■ :treme th e Era 

sheories of non-intercourse b eutral and hostile <>f Paper 

nations. It was the era of "paper blockades." In 1806 BIock *' ules 
England, for instance, declared that eight hundred miles of the European 
"•oast were lo be considered blockaded, whereupon Napoleon, 1 out 

ione, declared the entire Kin; I Great Britain to be under blockade. 

Up to a certain point the interruption of the neutral trade relations 
uetween the countries of Europe was to the commercial advantage of 
America. Our carrying trade grew and prospered wonderfully. Much 
:>f this trade consisted in taking goods from the colonies of European 
nations, bringing them to the United States, then trans-shipping them and 
:onveying them to the parent nation. This was allowable under the inter- 
national law of the time, although the direct carrying of goods by the 
neutral ship from the colony to the parent nation (the latter, ol course, 
leing at war) was forbidden. but by her famous "Orders in Council" 
,'ireat Britain absolutely forbade this system of trans-shipment as to nations 
with whom she was at war. American vessels engaged in this form of trade 
were seized and condemned by English prize courts. Naturally, France 
Followed Great Britain's example and even went further. Our merchants, 
ivho hail actually been earning double freights under the old system, now 
Found that their commerce was woefully restricted. At firsl it was thought 
that the unfair restriction might be punished by retaliatory measures, and a 
quite illogical analogy was drawn from the effect produced on Great Britain 

e the Revolution by the refusal of the colonies to receive goods on 
which a tax had been imposed. So President Jefferson's administration 
resorted to the most unwise measure that could be thought of — an absolute 
Embargo on our own ships, which were prohibited from leaving port. 

This measure was passed in 1S07, and its immediate result was to 
reduce the exports of this country from nearly fifty million dollars' worth to 



372 



ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH 



nine million dollars' worth in a single year. This was evidently an) thing 
but profitable, and the act was changed so as to forbid only commercial 
Jefferson intercourse with Great Britain and France and their colonies, 

and the with a proviso that the law should be abandoned as regards 

m argo either of these countries which should repeal its objectionable 
decrees. The French government moved in the matter first, but only con- 
ditionally. Our non-intercourse act, however, was after 1S10 in force only 
against Great Britain. That our claims of wrong were equally, or nearly 
so, as great against France in this matter cannot be doubted. But the 
popular feeling was stronger against Great Britain ; a war with England 
was popular with the mass of the Democrats ; and it was the refusal of 
England to accept our conditions which finally led to the declaration of war. 
By a curious chain of circumstances it happened, however, that between the 
time when Congress declared war (June 18, 1812) and the date when the 
War Declared news of this declaration was received in England, the latter 
Against country had already revoked her famous "Orders in Council." 

Great Britain j n p ; nt Q f f act) p res ident Madison was very reluctant to 
declare war, though the Federalists always took great pleasure in speaking 
of this as " Mr. Madison's war." The Federalists throughout considered 
the war unnecessary and the result of partisan feeling and unreasonable 
prejudice. 

It is peculiarly grateful to American pride that this war, undertaken in 
defence of our maritime interests and to uphold the honor of our flag upon 
the high seas, resulted in a series of naval victories brilliant in the extreme. 
It was not, indeed, at first thought that this would be chiefly a naval war. ; 
President Madison was at one time strongly inclined to keep our war vessels 
in port; but, happily, other counsels prevailed. The disparity between the 
American and British navies was certainly disheartening. The United 
States had seven or eight frigates and a few sloops, brigs, and gunboats, 
while the sails of England's navy whitened every sea, and her ships cer- 
tainly outnumbered ours by fifty to one. On the other hand, her hands 
were tied to a great extent by the stupendous European war in which she 
was involved. She had to defend her commerce from formidable enemies, 
•™_ r, ... c , and could spare but a small part of her naval strength for 

The British and ' ' p 

American battle with the new foe. That this new foe was despised by 

Navies Com= t ] ie g rea t power which claimed, not without reason, to be the 

mistress of the seas, was not unnatural. But soon we find a 

lament raised in Parliament about the reverses of its navy, which were such 

as "English officers and English sailors had not before been used to, , 

particularly from such a contemptible navy as that of America had always 



ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SI 

n held to 1 The fact is, that the restriction "I" Ami ri 

had made it possible for our naval ofi to Lake their pick i 

ably fine bod}- of native American seamen, naturally brave and intelligent, 
and thoroughly well trained in all seamanlike experiences. These men were 
in many instances Idled with a spirit of resentment at British insoli 
having either themselves been the victims of the aggressions which we I 
described, or having seen their friends compelled to submit to these insolent 
acts. The very smallness of our navy, too, was in a measure its strength ; 
the competition for active service among those bearing commissions was 
great, and there was never any trouble in finding officers of proved sagacity 
and coura 

At the outset, however, the policy determined on by the administration 
was not one of naval aggression. It was decided to attack England from 
her Canadian colonies. This plan of campaign, however n ible it mi 

seem to a strategist, failed wretchedly in execution. The first The War on 
year of the war, so far as regards the land campaigns, showed the Canada 
nothing but reverses and fiascoes. There was a long and 
thinly settled border country, in which our slender forces struggled to hold 
their own against the barbarous Indian onslaughts, making- futile expeditions 
across the border into Canada, and resisting with some success the similar 
expeditions by the Canadian troops. One of the complaints which led to the 
war was that the Indian tribes had been incited against our settlers by the 
Canadian authorities and had been promised aid from Canada. It is certain 
that after war was declared British officers not only employed Indians as 
their allies, but, in some instances at least, paid bounties for the scalps ol 
American s< I 

The Indian war planned by Tecumseh had just been put down by Gen- 
eral (afterward President) Harrison. No doubt Tecumseh was a man of 
more elevated ambition and more humane instincts than one often finds in 
an Indian chief. His hope to unite the tribes and to drive the whites out 
of his country has a certain nobility of purpose and breadth of view. But 
this scheme had failed, and the Indian warriors, still inflamed for war, were 
only too eager to assist the Canadian forces in a desultory but bloody bor- 
der war. The strength of our campaign against Canada was dissipated in an 
attempt to hold Fort Wayne, Fort Harrison, and other garrisons against 
Indian attacks. Still more disappointing was the complete null and the 
failure of the attempt, under the command of General Hull, Surrender of 
to advance from Detroit into Canada. He was easily driven Detroit 
back to Detroit, and, while the nation was confidently waiting to hear of a 
bold defence of that place, it was startled by the news of Hull's surrender 

21 



374 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH 

without firing a gun, and under circumstances which seemed to indicate 
either cowardice or treachery. Hull was, in fact, court-martialed and con- 
demned to death, and was only pardoned on account of his services in the 
war of 1776. 

The mortification that followed the land campaign of 18 12 was for- 
gotten in the joy at the splendid naval victories of that year. Pre-eminent 
among- these was the famous sea-duel between the frigates Constitution and 
Guerriere. Every one knows of the glory of Old Ironsides, and this, 
though the greatest, was only one of many victories through which the 
name of the Constitution became the most famed and beloved of all that 
have been associated with American ships. She was a fine frigate, carrying 
forty-four guns, and though English journals had ridiculed her as "a bunch 
of pine boards under a bit of striped bunting," it was not long before they 
were busily engaged in trying to prove that she was too large a vessel to be 
properly called a frigate, and that she greatly out-classed her opponent in 
The " Constitu- metal and men. It is true that the Constitution carried six 

tion"andthe more guns and a few more men than the Guerriere, but all 
"fin t r " 

allowances being made, her victory was a naval triumph of the 

first magnitude. Captain Isaac Hull, who commanded her, had just before 

the engagement proved his superior seamanship by escaping from a whole 

squadron of British vessels, out-sailing and out-manceuvring them at every 

point. It was on August 19, 181 2, that he descried the Guerriere. Both vessels 

at once cleared for action and came together with the greatest eagerness on 

both sides for the engagement. Though the battle lasted but half an hour, it 

was one of the hottest in naval annals. At one time the Constitution was 

on fire, and both ships were soon seriously crippled by injuries to their 

spars. Attempts to board each other were thwarted on both sides by the 

close fire of small arms. Here, as in later sea-fights of this war, the accu- 

„. ,,, . racy and skill of the American gunners were something mar- 

The Glorious J & S 

Victory of the velous. At the end of half an hour the Guerriere had lost 
Frigate "Con- both mainmast and foremast, and floated as a helpless hulk in 

stitution*' . ....,„ 

the open sea. Her surrender was no discredit to her omcers, 

as she was almost in a sinking condition. It was hopeless to attempt to tow 
her into port, and Captain Hull transferred his prisoners to his own vessel 
and set fire to his prize. 

In this engagement the American frigate had only seven men killed and 
an equal number wounded, while the British vessel had as many as seventy- 
nine men killed or wounded. The conduct of the American seamen was 
throughout gallant in the highest degree. Captain Hull put it on record 
that " From the smallest boy in the ship to the oldest seaman not a look of 



ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEAR< 

fear wa ; seen. They all went into action giving l [uest- 

ing to be laid close alongside: the enemy." Th I of this victory in both 

America and England was extraordinary. English papers long refused to 
believe in the possibility of the well-proved facts, while in America the whole 
country joined in a triumphal shout of joy, and loaded well-deserved honors 
on vessel, captain, officers, and men. 

The chagrin of the English public at the unexpected result of this sea- 
battle was changed to amazement and vexation when, one after another, 
there followed no less than six combats of the same duel-like character, in 
all of which the American vessels were victorious. The first was between 
the American sloop J]~asfi and the English brig Frolic, which the "Wasp" 
was convoying a fleet of merchantmen, The fight was one of Captures the 
the mo-.; rate in the war; the two ship I so 

close together that their gunners could touch the sides of the opposing 

ith their rammers. Broadside after broadsidi into the 

Frolic by the Wasp, which obtained the superior position; but her sailors, 
too excited to await the victory which was sure to come from the continued 
raking of the enemy's vessel, rushed upon her decks without orders and 
overpowered her. Again the British loss in killed and wounded was lai 
that of the Americans very small. It in no wise detracted from the glory 
of this victory that both victor and prize were soon captured by a British 
man-of-war of immensely superior strength. 

Following this action, Commodore Stephen Decatur, in the frigate 
United States, attacked the Macedonian, a British vessel of the ..... 

The "United 

same class, and easily defeated her, bringing her into New states" and 
York harbor on New Year's Day, 1813, when ceived an the "Mace- 

ovation equal to that offered Captain Hull. The same result 
followed the attack of the Constitution, now under the command of Commo- 
dore Bainbridge, upon the British The latter had her captain 
fifty men killed and about one hundred wounded, and was left such a wreck 
that it was decided to blow her up, while the Constitution suffered so little 
she was in sport dubbed Old i r, a name now ennobled by a poem 
which has been in every school-boy's mouth. Other naval combats resulted, 
in the great majority of cases, in the same way ; in all unstinted praise was 
awarded by the nations of the world, even including England herself, to the 
admirable seamanship, the wonderful gunnery, and the personal intrepidity ol 
our naval forces. When the second year of tin: war closed our little navy 
had captured twenty-six warships, armed with 560 guns, while it had lost 
only seven ships, carrying 1 iq oups 



37° ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH 

But, if the highest honors of the war were thus won by our navy, the 
most serious injury materially to Great Britain was in the devastation of her 
commerce by American privateers. No less than two hundred and fifty 
American PrU °^ these sea guerrillas were afloat, and in the first year of the 

vateers and war they captured over three hundred merchant vessels, some- 
times even attacking and overcoming the smaller class of war- 
ships. The privateers were usually schooners armed with a few small guns, 
but carrying one long cannon mounted on a swivel so that it could be 
turned to any point of the horizon, and familiarly known as Long Tom. 
Of course, the crews were influenced by greed as well as by patriotism. 
Privateering is a somewhat doubtful mode of warfare at the best ; but inter- 
national law permits it, and, though it is hard to dissociate from it the 
aspect of legalized piracy, it is recognized to this day. In the most recent 
war, however, the Spanish-American, neither of the belligerent nations 
indulged in this relic of barbarism. 

If privateering were ever justifiable it was in the war now under con- 
sideration. As Jefferson said, there were then tens of thousands of seamen 
cut off by the war from their natural means of support and useless to their 
country in any other way, while by " licensing private armed vessels, the 
whole naval force of the nation was truly brought to bear on the foe." The 
havoc wrought on British trade was widespread indeed ; altogether between 
fifteen hundred and two thousand prizes were taken by the privateers. To 
compute the value of these prizes is impossible, but some idea may be 
gained from the single fact that one privateer, the Yankee, in a cruise of 
less than two months captured five brigs and four schooners, with cargoes 
valued at over half a million dollars. The men engfao-ed in this form of 
warfare were bold to recklessness, and their exploits have furnished many a 
tale to American writers of romance. 

The naval combats thus far mentioned were almost always of single 

vessels. For battles of fleets we must turn from the salt water to the fresh, 

from the ocean to the great lakes. The control of the waters 

the Lakes °f Lake Erie, Lake Ontario, and Lake Champlain was ob- 
viously of vast importance, in view of the continued land- 
fighting in the West and of the attempted invasion of Canada and the 
threatened counter-invasions. The British had the great advantage of 
being able to reach the lakes by the St. Lawrence, while our lake navies had 
to be constructed after the war began. One such little navy had been built 
at Presque Isle, now Erie, on Lake Erie. It comprised two brigs of twenty 
guns and several schooners and gunboats. It must be remembered that 
everything but the lumber needed for the vessels had to be brought through 



ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH 377 

the forests by hind from the eastern seaports, and the men: problem of 
transportation was a serious one. When finished, the fleet was put in com- 
mand of Oliver Hazard Perry. Watching Ids time: (and, it is said, taking 
advantage of the carelessness of the British commander, who went on 
shore to dinner one Sunday, when he should have been watching Perry's 
movements), the American commander drew his fleet over the bar which 
had protected it while in harbor from the onslaughts of the British fleet. 
To yet the brigs over this bar was a work ol time and great difficulty ; an 
attack at that hour by the British would certainly have ended in the total 
destruction of the tleet. This feat accomplished, Perry, in his flagship, the 
Lawrence, headed a fleet of ten vessels, fifty-five guns and four hund 
men. Opposed to him was Captain Barclay with six ships, sixty-five guns, 
and also about four hundred men. The British for several weeks avoided 
the conflict, but in the end were cornered ami forced to fight. It was at 
the beginning of this battle that Perry displayed the Hag perry's Great 
bearing- Lawrence's famous dying: words, "Don't give up the Victory on 
ship!" No less famous is his dispatch announcing the result 
in the words, "We have met the enemy and they are ours." The victory- 
was indeed a complete and decisive one ; all six of the enemy's ships were 
captured, and their loss was nearly double that of Perry's forces. The 
complete control of Lake Erie was assured ; that of Lake Ontario had 
already been gained by Commodore Chauncev. 

Perry's memorable victory opened the way for important land opera- 
tions by General Harrison, who now marched from Detroit with the design 
of invading Canada. He engaged with Proctor's mingled body of British 
troops and Indians, and by the battle of the Thames drove 
back the British from that part of Canada and restored the Thames 
matters to the position in which they stood before I lull's 
deplorable surrender of Detroit — and, indeed, of all Michigan — to the 
British. In this battle the Indian chief, Tecumseh, fell, and about three 
hundred of the British and Indians were killed on the field. The hold cf 
our enemies on the Indian tribes was greatly broken by this defi 

Previous to this the land campaigns had been marked by a succession 
of minor victories and defeats. In the West a force of Americans under 
General Winchester had been captured at the River Raisin, where there 
took place an atrocious massacre of prisoners by the Indians, who were 
quite beyond restraint from their white allies. On the other hand, the 
Americans had captured the city of York, now Toronto, though at the cost 
of their leader, General Pike, who, with two hundred of his men, was 
destroyed by the explosion of a magazine. Fort George had also been 



378 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH 

captured by the Americans and an attack on Sackett's Harbor had been 
gallantly repulsed. Following the battle of the Thames, extensive opera- 
tions of an aggressive kind were planned, looking toward the capture of 
Montreal and the invasion of Canada by way of Lakes Ontario and Cham- 
plain. Unhappily, jealousy between the American Generals Wilkinson and 
Hampton resulted in a lack of concert in their military operations, and the 
expedition became a complete fiasco. 

One turns for consolation from the mortifying record of Wilkinson 
expedition to the story of the continuous successes which accompanied the 
naval operations of 1813. Captain Lawrence, in the Hornet, won a com- 
plete victory over the English brig Peacock ; our brig, the Enterprise, cap- 
tured the Boxer, and other equally welcome victories were reported. One 
distinct defeat marred the record — that of our fine brig, the Chesapeake, 
commanded by Captain Lawrence, which was captured after one of the 
most hard-fought contests of the war by the British brig, the Shannon. 

, „ Lawrence himself fell mortally wounded, exclaiming as he 
Lawrences Fa- , . . 

mous Saying, was carried away, "Tell the men not to give up the ship, but 

"Don't Give figrht her till she sinks." It was a paraphrase of this exclama- 
Up the Ship." . & , . . _ , 11 • • 1 • 1 1 1 

tion which rerry used as a rallying signal in the battle on 

Lake Erie. Despite his one defeat, Captain Lawrence's fame as a gallant 
seaman and high-minded patriot was untarnished, and his death was more 
deplored throughout the country than was the loss of his ship. 

In the latter part of the war England was enabled to send large rein- 
forcements both to her army and navy engaged in the American campaigns. 
Events in Europe seemed in 18 14 to insure peace for at least a time. Na- 
poleon's power was broken ; the Emperor himself was exiled at Elba ; and 
Great Britain at last had her hands free. But before the reinforcements 
reached this country, our army had won greater credit and had shown more 
military skill by far than were evinced in its earlier operations. Along the 
line of the Niagara River active fighting had been going on. In the battle 
of Chippewa, the capture of Fort Erie, the engagement at Lundy's Lane, 
and the defence of Fort Erie the troops, under the command of Generals 
Winfield Scott and Brown, had more than held their own against superior 
forces, and had won from British officers the admission that they fought as 

well under fire as regular troops. More encouraging still 
Macdonough s ° * ° ° 

Victory on was the total defeat of the plan of invasion from Canada 

Lake Cham- undertaken by the now greatly strengthened British forces. 

These numbered twelve thousand men and were supported 

by a fleet on Lake Champlain. Their operations were directed against 

Plattsburg, and in the battle on the lake, usually called by the name of that 



ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT TO SEARCH 

town, the American flotilla, under the command of Commodore Mac- 
donough, completely routed the British fleet. As a result the English army 
also beat a rapid and undignified retreat to Canada. This was the last 
important engagement to take place in the North. 

Meanwhile expeditions of considerable size wen: directed by the British 
against our principal Southern cities. One of these brought Genera' Ross 
with five thousand men, chiefly the pick of the Duke of Wellington's army, 
into the Bay of Chesapeake. Nothing was more discreditable in the militai \ 
strategy of our administration than the fact that at this time Washington 
was left unprotected, though in evident danger. General Ross marched 
straight upon the capital, easily defeated at Bladensburg an inferior force 
of raw militia —who fought, however, with much courage — seized the city, 
and carried out his intention of destroying the public buildings and a great 
part of the town. Most of the public archives had been removed. Ross's 
conduct in the burning oi Washington, though of a character common 
enough in modern warfare, has been condemned as semi-barbarous by many 
writers. The achievement was greeted with enthusiasm by the English 
papers, but was really of much less importance than they supposed. Wash- 
ington at that time was a straggling town of only eight thousand inhabit- 
ants ; its public buildings were not at all adequate to the The Burning of 
demands of the future; and an optimist might even consider the American 
the destruction of the old city as a public benefit, for it Ca P |tal 
enabled Congress to adopt the plans which have since led to the making of 
the most beautiful city of the country, if not of the world. 

A similar attempt upon Baltimore was less successful The people of 
that city made a brave defence and hastily threw up extensive fortifications. 
In the end the British fleet, after a severe bombardment of Fort McHenry, 
was driven off. The British admiral had boasted that Fort McHenry would 
yield in a few hours ; and two days after, when its flag was still flying, 
Francis S. Key was inspired by its sight to compose our far-famed national 
ode, the "Star Spangled Banner." 

A still larger expedition of British troops soon after landed on the 
Louisiana coast and marched to the attack of New Orleans. Here General 
Andrew Jackson was in command. He had already distinguished himself 
during the war by putting down with a strong hand tin: hostile Creek Indians, 
who had been incited by English envoys to warfare against our southern 
settlers; and in April, icSia, William Weathersford, the half- Jacksonand 
breed chief, had surrendered in person to Jackson. General the Creek 
Packenham, who commanded the five thousand British sol- ,nd,an * 
diers sent against New Orleans, expected as easy a victory as that of Gen- 



3S0 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM Oh THE RIGHT OF SEARCH 

eral Ross at Washington. But Jackson had summoned to his aid the 
stalwart frontiersmen of Kentucky and Tennessee — men used from boy- 
hood to the rifle, and who made up what was in effect a splendid force of 
sharp-shooters. Both armies threw up rough fortifications ; General Jack- 
son made great use for that purpose of cotton bales, Packenham employing 
the still less solid material of sugar barrels. As it proved neither of these 
were suitable for the purpose, and they had to be replaced by earthworks. 
Oddly enough, the final battle, and really the most important one of the 
war, took place after the treaty of peace between the two countries had 
been signed. The British were repulsed again and again in persistent and 

. . , gallant attacks on our fortifications. General Packenham 

Jackson's & . 

Famous Great himself was killed, together with many of his officers and 
Victory at seven hundred of his men. One British officer pushed to the 
top of our earthworks and demanded their surrender, where- 
upon he was smilingly asked to look behind him, and turning saw, as he after- 
wards said, that the men he supposed to be supporting him " had vanished 
as if the earth had swallowed them up." Of the Americans only a few men 
were killed. 

The treaty of peace, signed at Ghent, December 24, 18 14, has been 
ridiculed because it contained no positive agreement as to many of the 
questions in dispute. Not a word did it say about the impressment of 
American sailors or the rights of neutral ships. Its chief stipulations were 
the mutual restoration of territory and the appointing of a commission to 
determine our northern boundary line. The truth is that both nations 
were tired of the war ; the circumstances that had led to England's a^gres- 
sions no longer existed; both countries were suffering enormous commer- 
cial loss to no avail; and, above all, the United States had emphatically 
justified by its deeds its claim to an equal place in the council of nations. 
Politically and materially, further warfare was illogical If 
of the War e two nat i° ns na cl understood each other better in the first 

place ; if Great Britain had treated our demands with cour- 
tesy and justice instead of with insolence ; if, in short, international comity 
had taken the place of international ill-temper, the war might have been 
avoided altogether. Its undoubted benefits to us were incidental rather 
than direct. But though not formally recognized by treaty, the rights of 
American seamen and of American ships were in fact no longer infringed 
upon by Great Britain. 

One political outcome of the war must not be overlooked. The New 
England Federalists had opposed it from the beginning, had naturally 
fretted at their loss of commerce, and had bitterly upbraided the Demo- 



ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH ; v Si 

cratic administration for currying popularity by a war carried on mainly at 

New England's expense. When, in the latter days of the war, New 

England ports were closed, Stonington was bombarded, Castine in Maine 

was seized, and serious depreciations were; threatened everywhere along 

the northeastern coast, the Federalists complained that the administration 

taxed them for the war but did not protect them. The outcome of all this 

discontent was the Hartford Convention. In point of fact it was a quite 

harmless conference which proposed some constitutional 

amendments, protested against too great centralization of * ar " r 
1 & ° Convention 

power, and urged the desirability of peace with honor. Hut 
the most absurd rumors wen- prevalent about its intentions; a regiment of 
troops was actually sent to Hartford to anticipate treasonable outbreaks; 
and for many years good Democrats religiously believed that there had 
been a plot to set up a monarchy in New England with the Duke of Kent 
as king. Harmless as it was, the Hartford Convention caused the death of 
the Federalist party. Its mild debates were distorted into secret conclaves 
plotting treason, and, though the news of peace followed close upon it, the 
Convention was long an object of opprobrium and a political bugbear. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

The United States Sustains Its Dignity Abroad. 

IF the reader will look at any map of Africa he will see on the northern 
coast, defining the southern limits of the Mediterranean, four States, 

Morocco, Algeria, Tunis, and Tripoli, running east and west a distance 
of 1S00 miles. These powers had for centuries maintained a state of semi- 
independency by paying tribute to Turkey. But this did not suit Algeria, 
the strongest and most warlike of the North African States ; and in the 
year 1710 the natives overthrew the rule of the Turkish Pasha, expelled him 
from the country, and united his authority to that of the Dey, the Algerian 
monarch. The Dey subsequently governed the country by means of a 
The Piratical Divan or Council of State chosen from the principal civic 
states of functionaries. The Algerians, with the other " Barbary 

North Africa States," as the piratical States were called, defied the powers 
of Europe ; their armed vessels sweeping the waters of the Mediterranean, 
committing a thousand ravages upon the merchant vessels of other nations, 
and almost driving commerce from its waters. France alone resisted these 
depredations, and this only partially, for after she had repeatedly chastised 
the Algerians, the strongest of the piratical States, and had induced the Dey 
to sign a treaty of peace, the Corsairs would await their opportunity and 
after a time resume their depredations. Algiers in the end forced the United 
States to resort to arms in the defence of its commerce, and the long immu- 
nity of the pirates did not cease until the great republic of the West took 
them in hand. 

The truth is, this conflict was no less irrepressible than that greater 
conflict which a century later deluged the land in blood. Before the Con- 
stitution of the United States had been adopted, two American vessels, fly- 
ing the flag of thirteen stripes and thirteen stars, instead of the forty-five 
stars which now form our national constellation, while sailing the Mediter- 
ranean had fallen a prey to the swift, heavily-armed Algerian cruisers. The 
vessels were confiscated, and their crews, to the number of twenty-one persons, 
were held for ransom, for which an enormous sum was demanded. 

This sum our Government was by no means willing to pay, as to do so 
would be to establish a precedent not only with Algeria, but also with Tunis, 
382 



Th ' ATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 383 

Tripoli, and Morocco, for each of these African piratical States was in league 
with the others, and all had to irately conciliated. 

But, after all, what else could the Government do ? The country had 
no navy. It could not undertake in improvised ships to go forth arid fight 
lli:' powerful cruisers ot the; African pirates — States so strong that the com- 
mercial nations of Europe were glad to win exemption from their depreda- 
tions by annual payments. Why not, then, ransom these; American captives 
by the payment of money and construct a navy sufficiently strong to resist 
their encroachments in the future ? This feeling on the part of the Gov- 
ernment was shared by tile people of the country, and as a The War with 
result Congress authorized the building of six frigates, and by the Pirates 
another act empowen nt Washington to borrow a ° r,p0 ' 

million of dollars for purchasing peace. Eventually the ransom money was 
paid to the piratical powers, and it was hoped all difficult)' was at an end. 
But, as a necessary provision for the future, the work of constructing the 
new warships was pushed with expedition. As will be seen, this proved to 
be a wise and timely precaution. 

We are new brought to the year 1800. Tripoli, angry at not receiving 
as much money as was paid to Algiers, declared war against the United 
States. Circumstances, however, had changed for the better, and the repub- 
lic was prepared to deal with the oppressors of its seamen in a more digni- 
fied and efficient manner than that of paying ransom For our new navy, a 
small but most efficient one, had been completed, and a squadron consisting 
of the frig , Captain Bainbridge, the Philadelphia, the President, and 

thi ichooner Experiment, was in Mediterranean waters. Two Tripolitan 
cruisers lying at Gibraltar on the watch for American vessels were blockaded 
by the Philadelphia. Cruising off Tripoli, the Experiment fell in with 
a Tripolitan cruiser of fourteen guns, and after three hours' hard fighting 
captured her, the Tripolitans losing twenty killed and thirty wounded. This 
brilliant result had a marked effect in quieting the turbulent pirates, who for 
the first time began to respect the United States. A treaty was signed in 
1805, in which Tripoli agreed no longer to molest American ships and 
sailors. 

This war was marked by a striking evidence of American pluck and 
readiness in an emergency. During the contest the frigate ^.. „ 

r,, ..... . .. ... . , The Famous 

Philadelphia, while chasing certain piratical craft into the har- incidentof 
bor of Tripoli, ran aground in a most perilous situation. the "Phila- 

ape was impossible, she was under the guns of the shore 
batteries and of the Tripolitan navy, and after a vain cfiort to sink her. 
all on board were forced to surrender as prisoners of war. Subsequently 



3S4 THE UNITED STA TES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 

the Tripolitans suceeded in floating the frigate, brought her into port 
in triumph, and began to refit her as a welcome addition to their navy. 
This state of affairs was galling to American pride, and, as the vessel could 
not be rescued, it was determined to make an effort to destroy her. One 
night a Moorish merchantman (captured and fitted for the purpose) entered 
the harbor and made her way close up to the side of the Philadelphia. Only 
a few men, dressed in Moorish garb, were visible, and no suspicion of their 
purpose was entertained. As these men claimed to have lost their anchor, 
a rope was thrown them from the vessel, and they made fast. In a minute 
more a startling change took place. A multitude of concealed Americans 
suddenly sprang into sight, clambered to the deck of the Philadelphia, and 
drove the surprised Moors over her sides. The frigate was fairly recaptured. 
But she could not be taken out, so the tars set her on fire, and made their 
escape by the light of her blazing spars and under the guns of the Tripoli- 
tan batteries, not a ball from which reached them. It was a gallant achieve- 
ment, and gave fame to Decatur, its leader. 

But peace was not yet assured. In 1815, when this country had just ended 

its war with Great Britain, the Dey of Algiers unceremoniously dismissed 

the American Consul and declared war against the United States, on the plea 

that he had not received certain articles demanded under the tribute treaty. 

This time the government was well prepared for the issue. The 

ar ecare population of the country had increased to over eight millions 
by Algiers r r ■' & 

The military spirit of the nation had been aroused by the war 

with Great Britain, ending in the splendid victory at New Orleans under 

General Jackson. Besides this, the navy had been increased and made far 

more effective. The administration, with Madison at its head, decided to 

submit to no further extortions from the Mediterranean pirates, and the 

President sent in a forcible message to Congress on the subject, taking high 

American ground. The result was a prompt acceptance of the Algerian 

declaration of war. Events succeeded each other in rapid succession. 

Ships new and old were at once fitted out. On May 15, 181 5, Decatur 

sailed from New York to the Mediterranean. His squadron comprised the 

frigates Guerriere, Macedonian and Constellation, the new sloop of war 

Ontario, and four brigs and two schooners in addition. 

On June 17th, the second day after entering the Mediter- 

forPeac" eS ranean » Decatur captured the largest frigate in the Algerian 

navy, having forty-four guns. The next day an Algerian brig 

was taken, and in less than two weeks after his first capture Decatur, with 

his entire squadron, appeared off Algiers. The end had come. The Dey's 

courage, like that of Bob Acres, oozed out at his fingers' ends. The 



THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 

terrified Dey sued for peace, which Decatur compelled him to sign on the 

quarter-deck of the Guerriere. In this treaty it was agreed by the Dey to sur- 
render all prisoners, pay a heavy indemnity, and renounce all tribute from 
America in the future. Decatur also secured indemnity from Tunis and 
Tripoli for American vessels captured under the guns of t heir forts by 
British cruisers during the late war. 

1 his ended at once and forever the payment of tribute to the piratical 
States of North Africa. All Europe, as well as our own country, rang with 
the splendid achievements of our navy ; and surely the stars and stripes 
had never before floated more proudly from the masthead of an American 
vessel- and they are flying as proudly to-day. 

One further example of the readiness of this country to defend itself 
upon the seas in its weak, early period may be related, though it slightly 
antedated tin- beginning of the century. This was a result of American 
indignation at the ravages upon its commerce by tin- warri 
nations of Europe. About 1708 the depredations of France A Na y a ' War 

r ' ' * with f-rance 

upon our merchantmen became so aggravating that, without 
the formality of a declaration, a naval war began. The vessels of our new 
navy were sent out, "letters of marque and reprisal" were granted to 
privateers, and their work soon began to tell. Captain Truxton of the Con- 
stellation captured the French frigate U Insurgente, the privateers brought 
more than fifty armed vessels of the French into port and France quickly de- 
; that she wanted peace. Thissort of argument was not quite to her ta 
Seventeen years after the close of the 1 rouble with Algiers, in 1S32. 
one of the most interesting cases of difficulty with a foreign power arose. 
As with Algeria and Tripoli, so now our navy was resorted to for the pur- 
pose of exacting reparation. This time the trouble was with the kingdom of 
Naples, in Italy, which had been wrested from Spain by Napoleon, who 
placed successively his brother foseph and his brother-in-law Murat on the 
throne of Naples and the two Sicilies. During the years [809-12 the Nea- 
politan government, under [oseph and Murat successively, had confiscated 
numerous American ships with their cargoes. The total amount of the 
American claims against Naples, as filed in the State department when 
Jackson's administration assumed control, was $1,734,994. They were held 
by various insurance companies and by citizens, principally of Baltimore. 
Demands for the payment of these claims had from time to time been made 
by our government, but Naples had always refused to settle them. 

Jackson and his cabinet took a decided stand, and determined that the 
Neapolitan government, then in the hands of Ferdinand II. — subsequently 
nicknamed Bomba because of his cruelties — should make due reparation for 



386 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 

the losses sustained by American citizens. The Hon. [ohn Nelson, ox 

Frederick, Maryland, was appointed Minister to Naples, and required to 

insist upon a settlement, Commodore Daniel Patterson, who had aided 

The Claim ' n tne defense of New Orleans in 1S15, was put in command 

Against of the Mediterranean squadron and ordered to co-operate with 

ap es Minister Nelson in enforcing his demands. But Naples 

•>ersisted in her refusal to render satisfaction, and a warlike demonstration 

.as decided upon, the whole matter being placed, under instructions, in the 

hands of Commodore Patterson. 

The entire force under his command consisted of three fifty-gun 
frigates and three twenty-gun corvettes. In order not to precipitate 
matters too hastily, the plan adopted was that these vessels should appear 
in the Neapolitan waters one at a time, and instructions were given to that 
effect. The Brandywine, with Minister Nelson on board, went first. Mr. 
Nelson made his demand for a settlement and was refused. There was 
nothing in the appearance of a Yankee envoy and a single ship to trouble 
King Bomba and his little kingdom. The Brandywine cast anchor in the 
harbor and the humbled envoy waited patiently for a few days. Then 
„ ... another American f\a.<y appeared on the horizon, and the 

How King & ^ r ' 

Bomba was frigate United States floated into the harbor and came to 
Brought to anchor. Mr. Nelson repeated his demands, and they were 
again refused. Four days slipped away, and the stars and 
stripes once more appeared off the harbor. King Bomba, looking out from 
his palace windows, saw the fifty-gun frigate Concord sail into the harbor 
and drop her anchor. Then unmistakable signs of uneasiness began to 
show themselves. Forts were repaired, troops drilled, and more cannon 
mounted on the coast. The demands were reiterated, but the Neapolitan 
government still declined to consider them. Two days later another war- 
ship made her way into the harbor. It was the JoJin Adams. When the 
fifth ship sailed gallantly in, Nelson sent word home that he was still 
unable to collect the bill. The end was not yet. Three days later, and the 
sixth American sail showed itself on the blue waters of the peerless bay. It 
\v-as the handwriting on the wall for King Bomba, and his government 
announced that they would accede to the American demands. The nego- 
tiations were promptly resumed and speedily closed, the payment of the 
principal in installments with interest being guaranteed. Pending nego- 
tiations, from August 28th to September 15th the entire squadron remained 
in the Bay of Naples, and then the ships sailed away and separated. So, 
happily and bloodlessly, ended a difficulty which at one time threatened 
most serious results. 



THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 387 

Another demonstration, less imposing in numbe spirited, 

and, indeed, more intensely dramatic, occurred at Smyrna in 

. Captain In- 

1853. when Captain Duncan N. Ingraham, with a single graham and 
sloop-of-war, trained his broadsides on a licet of Austrian the Koszta 
warships in the harbor. The episode was a most thrilling 
one, and our record would he incomplete were so dramatic an affair left 
unrecorded on its pages. This is the story : 

When the revolution of Hungary against Austria was put down, Kos- 
suth, Koszta, and other leading revolutionists fled to Smyrna, and the. 
Turkish government, after long negotiations, refused to give them up. 
Koszta soon after came to the United States, and in July, 1852, declared 
under oath his intention of becoming an American citizen. He resided in 
New York city a year and eleven months. 

A year after he had declared his intention to assume American citizen- 
ship, Koszta went to Smyrna on business, where he remained for a time 
undisturbed. He had so inflamed the Austrian government against him, 
however, that a plot was formed to capture him. On fune 21, 1853, while 
he was seated on the Marina, a public resort in Smyrna, a band of Greek 
mercenaries, hired by the Austrian Consul, seized him and carried him off 
to an Austrian ship-of-war, the Huzzar, then lying in the harbor. Arch- 
duke John, brother of the emperor, is said to have been in command of this 

1. Koszta was put in irons and treated as a criminal. The next day 
an American sloop-of-war, the St. Louis, commanded by Captain Duncan N. 
Ingraham, sailed into the harbor. Learning what had happened, Captain 
Ingraham immediately sent on board the Huzzar and courteously asked 
permission to see Koszta. His request was granted, and the captain 
assured himself that Koszta was entitled to the protection of the American 
Hag. He demanded hi >e from the Austrian commander. When it 

was refused, he communicated with the nearest United States official, Con- 
sul Brown, at Constantinople. While he was waiting fur an answer six 
Austrian warships sailed into the harbor and came to anchor in positions 
near the Huzzar. On June 29th, before Captain Ingraham The „ s , 

eived any answer from the American Consul, he Louis "and 
noticed unusual signs of activity on board the Huzzar, and the " Huzzar " 
before long she began to get under way. The American captain made up 
his mind immediately. lie put the St. Louis straight in the Huzzar s 
course and cleared his guns for action. The Huzzar hove to, and Captain 
Ineraham went on board and demanded the meaning of her action. 

" We propose to sail for home," replied the Austrian. "The consul 
has ordered us to take our prisoner to Austria." 



388 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 

You will pardon me," said Captain Ingraham, "but if you attempt to 
leave this port with that American on board I shall be compelled to resort 
tc extreme measures." 

The Austrian glanced around at the lleet of Austrian war-ships and the 
single American sloop-of-war. Then he smiled pleasantly, and intimated that 
the Hiczar would do as she pleased. 

Captain Ingraham bowed and returned to the St. Louis. He had no 
sooner reached her deck than he called out : " Clear the guns for action !" 

The Archduke of Austria saw the batteries of the St. Louis turned 
upon him, and suddenly realized that he was in the wrong. The Huzzar 
was put about and sailed back to her old anchorage. Word was sent to 
Captain Ingraham that the Austrian would await the arrival of the note 
from Mr. Brown. 

The consul's note, which came on July ist, commended Captain Ingra- 
ham's course and advised him to take whatever action he thought the situa- 
tion demanded. At eight o'clock on the morning of July 2d, Captain In- 
graham sent a note to the commander of the Huzzar, formally demanding 
the release of Mr. Koszta. Unless the prisoner was delivered on board the 
St. Louis before four o'clock the next afternoon, Captain Ingraham would 
take him from the Austrians by force. The Archduke sent back a formal 
refusal. At eight o'clock the next morning Captain Ingraham once more 

,, . r- ordered the decks cleared for action and trained his batteries 

Koszta is uiven 

Uptolngra- on the Huzzar. The seven Austrian war vessels cleared their 
ham decks and put their men at the guns. 

At ten o'clock an Austrian officer came to Captain Ingraham and began 
to temporize. Captain Ingraham refused to listen to him. 

" To avoid the worst," he said, " I will agree to let the man be delivered 
to the French Consul at Smyrna until you have opportunity to communicate 
with your government. But he must be delivered there, or I will take him. 
I have stated the time." 

At twelve o'clock a boat left the Huzzar with Koszta in it, and an hour 
later the French Consul sent word that Koszta was in his keeping. Then 
several of the Austrian war-wessels sailed out of the harbor. Long negotia- 
tions between the two governments followed, and in the end Austria ad- 
mitted that the United States was in the right, and apologized. 

Scarcely had the plaudits which greeted Captain Ingraham's intrepid 
course died away, when, the next year, another occasion arose where our 
p-overnraent was obliged to resort to the show of force. This time Nica- 
rao-ua was the country involved. Various outrages, as was contended, had 
been committed on the persons and property of American citizens dwelling 



THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 389 

in that country. The repeated demands for redress were not complied 
with. Peaceful negotiations having failed, in fune, 1854, The Trouble 
Commander Hollins, with the sloop of war Cyane, was with Nicara- 
ordercd to proceed to the town of San Juan, or Greytown, Rua 
which, lies on the Mosquito coast of Nicaragua, and to insist on favorable 
action from the Nicaraguan government. 

Captain Hollins came to anchor off the coast and placed his demands 
before the authorities. He waited patiently for a response, but no satisfac- 
tory one was offered him. After a number of days he made a final appeal 
and then proceeded to can-}- out his instructions. On the morning- of July 
13th he directed his batteries on the town of San Juan and opened fire. 
Until four o'clock in the afternoon the ship poured out broadsides as 
fast as its guns could be loaded. By that time the greater part of the 
town was destroyed. Then a party of marines was put on shore, and 
completed the destruction of the: place by burning the houses. 

A lieutenant of the British navy commanding a small vessel of war was 
in the harbor at the time. England claimed a species of protectorate over 
the settlement, and the British officer raised violent protest against the 
action taken by America's representative. Captain Hollins, however, paid 
no attention to the interference and carried out his instructions. The 
United States government later sustained Captain Hollins in everything 
he had done, and England thereupon thought best to let the matter drop. 
In this that country was unquestionably wise. 

At this time the United States seems to have entered upon a period of 

international conflict ; for no sooner had the difficulties with Austria and 

Nicaragua been adjusted than another war-cloud appeared on the horizon. 

Here again only a year from the last contlict had elapsed, for in 1855 an 

offense was committed against the United States by Paraguay. 

To explain what it was we shall have to go back three years. "*? 

1 & •' \V aters 

In 1852 Captain Thomas f. Page, commanding a small light- 
draught steamer, the Water Witch, by direction of his government started 
for South America to explore the River La Plata and its large tributaries, 
with a view to opening up commercial intercourse between the United 
States and the interior States of South America. We have said that the 
expedition was ordered by our government; it also remains to be noted 
that it was undertaken with the full consent and approbation of the 
countries having jurisdiction over those waters. Slowly, but surely, the 
little steamer pushed her way up the river, making soundings and charting 
the river as she proceeded. All went well until February 1, 1855, when the 
first sign of trouble appeared. 



390 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 

It was a lovely day in early summer — the summer begins in February 
in that latitude — and nothing appeared to indicate the slightest disturbance 
The little Water M'itcli was quietly steaming up the River Parana, which 
forms the northern boundary of the State of Corrientes. separating it from 
Paraguay, when suddenly, without a moment's warning, a battery from Fort 
Itaparu. on the Paraguayan shore, opened fire upon her, immediately killing 
r he Assault on ?{ ' ner crew - wno at that time was at the wheel. The 

the "Water Water Witch was not fitted for hostilities; least of all could 
she assume the risk of attempting to run the batteries of the 
fort. Accordingly, Captain Page put the r about, and was soon out 

of range. It should here be explained that at that time President Carlos 
A. Lopez was the autocratic ruler of Paraguay, and that he had previously 
Lptain Page with every assurance of friendship. A tew months 
previ wever. Lopez h en antagonized by the United States con- 

sul at Ascencion. This gentleman, in addition to his official position, acted 
as agent for an American mercantile company of which Lopez disapproved 
and whose business he had broker. He had als issued a decree 

forbidding f - war to navigate the Parana or any of the 

waters boun ,uay, which he clearly had no right to do, as half the 

stream belonged to the country bo deringr on the other side. 

it impr cticable to prosecute his exploration any 
further, at once returned to the Ur 5l where he gave the Washington 

authorit: int of the occurrence. It \ med by our 

rnment that the • as not subject to the jurisdiction of 

Para, is the channel v. equal property of the Argentine Republic 

It was furthe r d that, even if she had been within the jurisdict I Para- 

guay, she w. sselof :ent boat employed 

ior scientific purposes. And even were the vessel supposed to be a war 

of international riomt 
and 5y to fire > without first 

ful means. At that time William L. Marcy, one of the 
fore: n hisday, was - :ary of State. Mr. Marcy at once 

wrote i str rig letter to the Par. - _ ■ "anient, stating 

Marcy Demands . , , . 

Reparation s the action oi Paraguay in 

firing ild not 

irection, 
however, proved fruit! — us give a reparation ; and not 

terican vessel would be allowed to as 
the I the purpose indicated. 






THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 



39 1 



The e\ known, d not a little excitement; and 

while there were some wh sort to extreme measures, the 

general sentiment of the country was decidedly manifested in favor of an 

rtion of our rights in the p Accordingly, President Pierce sent. 

a me justment of the difficulty was 

impossible, and asking for authority to send such a naval force to Paraguay 
as would compel her arbitrary rul< e the full satisfaction demanded. 

To this request Con iromptly and almost unanimously gave 

at, and one of the str naval expeditions ever fitted out by the 

Unit S tes up to that time was ordered to ble at the mouth of La 

Plata River. The licet was an imposing or the purpose, and com- 

prised nin- : ven of which w pecially a Powerful 

chartered for the purpose, as our largest war vessels were of Fleet Sent to 
too deep draught to ascend the La Plata and Parana. The Paraguay 
entire squadron carried 200 guns and 2,50x3 nd was commanded by 

>fficer, afterward r rural, Shubrick, one of the oldest officers of 

our navy, and one of the : .ilant men that ever trod a quarter-deck. 

Officer Shubrick was accompanied by United States Commissioner 

Bowlin, to whom was intrusted negotiations for the settlement of the 

difficulty. 

Three years and eleven months had now passed since the Water Witch 
was tired upon, and President Buchanan had succeeded Franklin Pierce. 
The winter of 1S59 was jus - g in at the north ; the streams were cl 

by ice, and the lakes w nd, but the palm trees of the south were 

displaying their fresh green leaves, like so many fringed banners, in the 
warm tropical air when the United States squadron assembled at Monte- 
The fleet included two United States frigates, the , and the 

St. I. : ; two ■ th and the Preble; three brigs, 

the I cially armed 

fort'.- -ion, th- 'an/a, th< rn Star, 

the TVes ,- two arm 

ships, th V and tl Harriet Lane; and, 

lastly, the little 'Water Witch herself, no I defenceless, but in fighting 

trim for hostiliti 

On uary. 1S59, within just one week of four years from 

■the firing got under way and can 

anchor 1 encion, tiv ay. Meanwhile The Ships 

President Urquiza, of the Argentine Republic, who had Anchor off 
offered his services to mediate the difficulty, had arrived at Ascencion 
Ascencion in a Ivance of the squadron. The negotiations topened 



?o^ THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 

Commissioner Bowlin made his demand for instant reparation. All this 
time Flag Officer Shubrick was not idle. With such of our vessels as were 
of suitable size he ascended the river, taking them through the difficulties 
created by its currents, shoals and sand bars, and brought them to a position 
above the town, where they were made ready for action in case of necessity 
to open fire. The force within striking distance of Paraguay consisted of 
1,740 men, besides the officers, and 78 guns, including 23 nine-inch shell 
guns and one shell gun of eleven inches. 

Ships and guns proved to be very strong arguments with Lopez. It did 
not take the Dictator-President long to see that the United States meant 
business, and that the time for trifling had passed and the time for serious 
work had come. President Lopez's cerebral processes worked with re- 
markable and encouraging celerity. By February 5th, within less than 
two weeks of the starting of the squadron from Montevideo, Commissioner 
Bowlin's demands were all acceded to. Ample apologies were made for 

„ . . . . firingf on the Water Witch, and pecuniary compensation was 

President Lopez & _ l ■ l 

Brought «o given to the family of the sailor who had been killed. In 
Terms addition to this, a new commercial treaty was made, and 

cordial relations were fully restored between the two governments. 

A period of more than thirty years now elapsed before any serious dif- 
ficulty occurred with a foreign power. In 1891 an event took place that 
threatened to disturb our relations with Chili and possibly involve the 
United States in war with that power. Happily the matter reached a peace- 
ful settlement. In January, of that year, civil war had broken out in Chili, the 
cause of which was a contest between the legislative branch of the eovernment 
The Civil War and the executive, for the control of affairs. The President of 
in ChiH Chili, General Balmaceda, began to assert authority which the 

legislature, or " the Congressionalists," as the opposing party was called, 
resisted as unconstitutional and oppressive, and they accordingly proceeded 
to interfere with Balmaceda's Cabinet in its efforts to carry out the presi- 
dent's despotic will. 

Finally matters came to a point where appeal to arms was necessary. 
On the 9th of January the Congressional party took possession of the 
greater part of the Chilian fleet, the navy being in hearty sympathy with 
them, and the guns of the warships were turned against Balmaceda, — 
Valparaiso, the capital, and other ports being blockaded by the ships. 
For a time Balmaceda maintained control of the capital and the southern 
part of the country. The key to the position was Valparaiso, which was 
strongly fortified, Balmaceda's army being massed there and placed at 
available points- 



THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 393 

At last the Congfressionalists determined to attack Balmaceda at his 
capital, and on August 21st landed every available fighting man at their 
disposal at Concon, about ten miles north of Valparaiso. They were 
attacked by the Dictator on the 22d, there being twenty thousand men on 
each side. The Dictator had the worst of it. Then he rallied his shattered 
forces, and made his last stand at Placillo, close to Valp; on the 28th. 

The battle was hot, the carnage fearful ; neither side asked for or received 
quarter. The magazine ritles, with which the revolutionists were armed, 
did wonders. The odds were against Balmaceda ; both his generals quar- 
reled in face of the enemy ; his army became divided and tie- 
moralized. In a later battle both of his generals were killed. Th e Overthrow 

• of Balmaceda 

The valor and the superior tactics oi General Canto, leader of 

the Congressional army, won the day. balmaceda tied and eventually 
committed suicide, and the Congressionalists entered the capital in 
triumph. 

Several incidents meantime! had conspired, during the progress of this 
war, to rouse the animosity of the stronger party in Chili against the United 
States. before the Congressionalists' triumph the steamship Itata, load : 1 
with American arms and ammunition for Chili, sailed from San Francisco, 
and as this was a violation of the neutrality laws, a United States war \ 
pursued her to the harbor of Iquique, where she surrendered. Then other 
troubles arose. Our minister at Valparaiso, Mr. Egan, was chat by the 

■ ressionalists, then in power, with disregarding international law in 
allowing the American Legation to be made an asylum lor the adherents of 
Balmaceda. Subsequently these refugees were permitted to go aboard 
American vessels and sail away. Then Admiral Brown, of the United 
States squadron, was, in Chili's opinion, guilty of having acted as a spy 
upon the movements of the Congressionalists' fleet at Quinteros, and of 
bringing intelligence of its movements to balmaceda at Valparaiso. This, 
however, the Admiral stoutly denied. 

The strong popular feeling of dislike which was engendered by these 
charges culminated on tne i6thof October, in an attack upon American sea- 
men by a mob in the streets of the Chilian capital. Captain Schley, com- 
mander of the United States cruiser Baltimore, had given shore-leave to a 
hundred and seventeen petty officers and seamen, some of An Attack on 
whom, when they had been on shore for several hours, were the Men of 
set upon by Chilians. They to fusfe in a street car, from ",, a 

r ■> J » > more " 

which, however, they were soon driven and mercilessly beaten, 

and a subordinate officer named Riggen fell, apparently lifeless. The Ameri- 
can sailors, according to Captain Schley's testimony, were sober and 



394 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 

conducting- themselves with propriety when the attack was made. They 
were not armed, even their knives having- been taken from them before they 
left the vessel. 

The assault upon those in the street car seemed to be only a signal for 
a general uprising ; and a mob which is variously estimated at from one 
thousand to two thousand people attacked our sailors with such fury that in 
a little while these men, whom no investigation could find guilty of any 
breach of the peace, were fleeing for their lives before an overwhelming 
crowd, among which were a number of the police of Valparaiso. In this 
affray eighteen sailors were stabbed, several dying from their wounds. 

Of course the United States government at once communicated with 
the Chilian authorities on the subject, expressing an intention to investigate 
the occurrence fully. The first reply made to the American government by 
Signor Matta, the Chilian minister of foreign affairs, was to the effect that 
Chili would not allow anything to interfere with her own official investi- 
gation. 

An examination of all the facts was made on our part. It was careful 
and thorough, and showed that our flag had been insulted in the persons of 
American seamen. Yet, while the Chilian court of inquiry could present 
An Investiga- no extenuating facts, that country refused at first to offer 
tion De- apology or reparation for the affront. In the course of the 

correspondence Minister Matta sent a note of instruction to 
Mr. Montt, Chilian representative at Washington, in which he used the most 
offensive terms in relation to the United States, and directed that the letter 
should be given to the press for publication. 

After waitino- for a lone time for the result of the investigation at 
Valparaiso, and finding that, although no excuse or palliation had been found 
for the outrage, the Chilian authorities seemed reluctant to offer apology, 
the President of the United States, in a message to Congress, made an ex- 
tended statement of the various incidents of the case and its legal aspect, 
and stated that on the 21st of January he had caused a peremptory com- 
munication to be presented to the Chilian government by the American 
minister at Santiago, in which severance of diplomatic relations was 
threatened if our demands for satisfaction, which included the withdrawal 
of Mr. Matta's insulting note, were not complied with. At the time that 
this message was delivered no reply had been sent to the note. 

Mr. Harrison's statement of the legal aspect of the case, upon which 
the final settlement of the difficulty was based, was that the presence of a 
warship of any nation in a port belonging to a friendly power is by virtue 
of a general invitation which nations are held to extend to each other ; that 



THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 395 

Commander Schley was invited, with his officers and crew, to enjoy the 

hospitality of Valparaiso; that while no claim that an attack which an 
individual sailor may be subjected to raises an international The American 
question, yet where the resident population assault sailors of CasePre- 
another country's war \ . as at Valparaiso, animated by an &ented 

animosity against the government to which they belong, that government 
must act as it would if the representatives or flag of the nation had been 
attacked, since the sailors are there by the order of their government. 

Finally an ultimatum was sent from the State department at Washing- 
ton, on the 25th, to Minister Egan, and was by him transmitted to the 
proper Chilian authorities. It demanded the retraction of Mr. Matta's note 
and suitable apology and reparation for the insult and injury chili offers an 
sustained by the United Si.ites. ( )n the 28th of January, Apoiogyand 
1892, a dispatch from Chili was received, in which the de- Reparation 
mands of our government were full\ acceded to, the offensive letter was 
withdrawn, and regret was expressed for the occurrence. In his relation to 
this particular case, Minister Egan's conduct received the entire approval of 
his government. 

While the United States looked for a peaceful solution of this annoy- 
ing international episode, the proper preparations were made for a less 
desirable outcome. Our naval force was put in as efficient a condition as 
possible, and the vessels which were then in the navy yard were got 
ready for service with all expedition. If the Chilian war-scare did nothing 
else, it aroused a wholesome interest in naval matters throughout the whole 
of the United States, and by focusing attention upon the needs of this 
branch of the public service, showed at once how helpless we might become 
in the event of a war with any first-class power. We may thank Chili that 
to-day the United States Navy is in a better condition than at any time in 
our history. 

When the great Napoleon was overthrown, France, Russia, Prussia 
and Austria formed an alliance for preserving the "balance of power" and 
for suppressing revolutions within one another's dominions. This has been 
spoken of in a preceding chapter as the " Holy Alliance." At the time 
the Spanish South American colonies were in revolt, and the alliance had 
taken steps indicating an intention to aid in their reduction. George Can- 
ning, the English secretary of state, pr to our country that we should 
unite with England in preventing such an outrage against 

Th n 
civilization. It was a momentous question, and President \^<x*™ 

Monroe consulted with Jefferson, Madison, Calhoun and 

John Quincy Adams, the secretary of state, before making answer. The 



396 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 

decision beine reached, the President embodied in his annual message to 
Congress in December, 1S23, a clause which formulated what has ever since 
been known as the " Monroe Doctrine." It was written by John Ouincy 
Adams, and, referring to the intervention of the allied powers, said that we 
" should consider any attempt on their part to extend their system to any 
portion of this hemisphere as dangerous to our peace and safety ;" and 
further, " that the American continents, by the free and independent condi- 
tion which they have assumed and maintain, are henceforth not to be con- 
sidered as subjects for future colonization by any European powers." 

By the Monroe Doctrine the United States formally adopted the posi- 
tion of guardian of the weaker American States, and since its promulgation 
there have been few aggressions of European nations in America, and none 

in which the United States has not decisively warned them 
^ .** off. The most striking instances may be stated. When, 

during- the troubles in Cuba, France and Great Britain sua-- 

gested an alliance with the United States to look after affairs in that 

quarter, they were given plainly to understand that this country would 

attend to that matter itself and would brook no interference on the part of 

foreign powers. It also intimated that, in the event of Spain giving up her 

authority in Cuba from any cause, the United States proposed to act as 

the sole arbiter of the destinies of the island. Since that date no European 

power has shown any 'inclination to interfere in Cuban affairs. 

The only decided effort to set at naught the Monroe Doctrine was 

made by France during the American Civil War. Taking advantage of 

. „ . the difficulties under which our government then labored, 
France in Mexico & * 

and the Fate France landed an army in Mexico, overthrew the republic, 
of Maximilian established an empire, and placed Maximilian, a brother of 
the Emperor of Austria, upon its throne. All went well with the new 
emperor until after the close of our Civil War ; then all began to go ill. 
The Monroe Doctrine raised its head again, and the French were plainly 
bidden to take their troops from Mexico if they did not want trouble. 
Napoleon III. was quick to take the hint, and to withdraw his army. Max- 
imilian was advised to go with it, but he unwisely declined, fancying that 
he could maintain his seat upon the Mexican throne. He was quickly 
undeceived. The liberals sprang to arms, defeated with ease his small 
army, and soon had him in their hands. A few words complete the story 
He was tried by court martial, condemned to death, and shot. Thus ended 
in disaster the most decided attempt to set at naught the Monroe Doctrine 
of American guardianship. 



THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 397 

A second effort, less piratical in its character, was the attempt of Great 

Britain to extend tb f British Guiana at the expense of Venezuela. 

To a certain degree Great Britain seems to have had right _. ., 

o ° 1 he Venezuelan 

on its side in this movement, but its methods were those Boundary and 

strong nations when dealing with weak ones, the the Monroe 
1 , ,, , , ... . ., , Doctrine 

demand of \ enezuela tor arbitration was scornfully ignored, 
and force was used to support a claim whose justice no effort was made to 
show. These high-handed proceedings were brought to a quick termination 
by the action of the United Slates, which offered itself as the friend and 
ally of Venezuela in the dispute. President Cleveland insisted on an arbitra- 
tion of the difficulty in words that had no uncertain ring, and the states- 
men of Great Britain, convinced that he meant just what he said, submitted 
with what grace they could. A court of arbitration was appointed, the 
boundary question put into its hands to settle, and peace and satisfaction 
reigned again. The Monroe Doctrine had once more decisively asserted 
itself. By the decision of the court of arbitration each country got the 
portion of the disputed territory it most valued, and both were satisfied. 
Thus peace has its triumphs greater than those of war. 

These are not offei the only occasions in which the United States 

has come into hostile relations with foreign powers and has sustained its 
dignity with or without . t they are the most striking ones, unless we 

include in this category the Mexican war. Various disputes of a minor 
character have arisen, notably with Great Britain, the latest being that con- 
cerning the Alaskan boundary ; but those given are the only instances that 
seem to call for attention here. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Webster and Clay and the Preservation of the Union. 

DURING the first half of the nineteenth century a number of great 
questions came up in American politics and pressed for solution. 
There was abundance of hostilities — wars with Great Britain, the 
Barbary states, Mexico and the Indians — and international difficulties of 
various kinds. The most important of these we have described. We have 
now to consider questions of internal policy, problems arising in the devel- 
opment of the nation which threatened its peace and pros- 

Questions of in. per ; ty anc j to c j ea ] w j t h w hich called for the most earnest 
ternal Policy . . ... .... 

patriotism and the highest statesmanship in the political 

leaders of the commonwealth. Among these leaders two men loomed high 

above their contemporaries, Daniel Webster, the supreme orator and 

staunch defender of the Union, and Henry Clay, the great peace-maker, 

whose hand for years stayed the waves of the political tempest and more 

than once checked legislative hostilities in their early stage. It was not until 

Clay had passed from the scene that one of the national problems alluded to 

plunged the country into civil war and racked the Union almost to the 

point of dissolution. 

Of these great political questions, danger to the Union arose from two, 

the problem of the tariff and the dispute over the institution of slavery. 

There were others of minor importance, prominent among them those of 

internal improvement at government expense, and of state 

Danger to the r jgrhts, or the decree of independence of the states under the 
Union & & l 

Federal Union, but it was the first two only that threatened 

the existence of the nation, and in dealing with which the noblest states- 
manship and the most fervid and convincing oratory were called into play. 
The subject of slavery in particular gloomed above the nation like a terrible 
thunder cloud. All other questions of domestic policy — tariff, currency, 
internal improvements, state rights — were subordinate to the main ques- 
tion of how to preserve the Union under this unceasing threat. Some, 
like Calhoun, were ready to abandon the Union that slavery might be 
saved; others, like Garrison, were ready to abandon the Union that slavery 
might be destroyed. Between these extremes stood many able and patriotic 
398 



THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION y)') 

statesmen, who, to save the Union, were ready to make any sacrifice and 
join in any compromise. And high among these, for more than fifty years, 
stood the noble figure of Henry Clay. 

Not often does a man whose life is spent in purely civil affairs become 
such a popular hero and idol as did CI ecially when it is his fate 

never to reach the highest place in the people's gift. " Was there ever," 
says Parton, ''a public man, not at the head of a state, so be- 
loved as he? Who ever heard such cheers, so hearty, distinct * ys . r ?f 

Popularity 

and ringing, as those which his name evoked? Men shed 
tears at his defeat, ami women went to bed sick from pure sympathy with 
his disappointment. 1 le could not travel during the last thirty years of his 
life, but only make progresses. \\ hen he kit home tin- public seized him 
and bore him along over the land, the committee of one state passing him 
on to the committee of another, and the hurrahs of one town dying away as 
those of the next caught his ear." 

Born a poor boy, who had to make his way up from the lowest state o 
frontier indigence, he was favored by nature with a kindly soul, the finest 
and most effective powers of orator)-, and a voice of the most admirable 
character; one of deep and rich tone, wonderful volume, and sweet and 
tender harmony, which invested all he said with majesty, and swept 
audiences away as much by its musical and swelling cadences as by the 
logic and convincing nature of his utterances. 

After years oi active and useful labor in Congress, it was in iSiSthat 
Clay first stepped into the arena for the calming of the passions of Con- 
gress and the preservation of the Union, a duty to which he devoted him- 
self for tin remainder of his life. In the year named a petition for the 
admission of Missouri into the Union was presented in Congress, ami with 
it began that long and bitter struggle over slavery which did not end until 
the surrender ot Lee at Appomattox in 1865. 

For years the sentiment in favor of slavery had been growing stronger 
in the South. At one time many of the wisest southern statesmen and 
planters disapproved of the institution and propose,] its aboli- 
tion But the invention of the cotton gin by Kli Whitney, in sentiment 
1703, and tin: subsequent great dev at of tl ton 

culture had decidedly changed the situation. By 1800 the value of the 
cotton product had ad\ to $5,700,000. In 1820 it had made another 

great advance, and was valued at nearly $20,000,000. There was now no 
thought of doing away with the use of slaves, but a strong sentiment had 
arisen in the South in favor of extending the area in which slave labor 
could be employed. 



400 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 

In the North a different state of feeling existed. Slavery was believed 

to be a wrong and an injury to American institutions, though no movement 

for its abolition had been started. Many people thought it ought to and 

would disappear in rime, but there was no idea of taking steps 
The Admission . ... _ , . , ... , , 

of Missouri to enforce its disappearance. But when, in the bill for the 

admission of Missouri, there was shown a purpose of extend- 
ing the area of slavery, northern sentiment became alarmed and a strong 
opposition to this project developed in Congress. 

It was the sudden revelation of a change of feeling in the South which 
the North had not observed in its progress. "The discussion of this Mis- 
souri question has betrayed the secret of their souls," wrote John Ouincy 
Adams. The slaveholders watched with apprehension the steady growth of 
the free states in population, wealth and power. In 1790 the population 
of the two sections had been nearly even. In 1820 there was a difference 
of over 600,000 in favor of the North in a total of less than ten millions. 
In 1790 the representation of the two sections in Congress had been about 
evenly balanced. In 1S20 the census promised to give the North a prepon- 
derance of more than thirty votes in the House of Representatives. If 
the South was to retain its political equality in Congress, or at least in the 
Senate, it must have more slave states, and there now began a vigorous 
struggle with this object in view. It was determined, if possible, to have 
as many states as the North, and it was with this purpose that it fought so 
hard to have slavery introduced into Missouri. 

The famous " Missouri Compromise," by which the ominous dispute of 

1820 was at last settled, included the admission of one free state (Maine) 

and one slave state (Missouri) at the same time, and it was enacted that no 

other slave state, should be formed out of any part of the Louisiana 

territory north of thirty-six degrees thirty minutes, which 

TlieMissoun wag t } le sout h ern boundary line of Missouri. The assent of 
Compromise J 

opposing parties to this arrangement was secured largely by 

the patriotic efforts of Clay, who, says Schurz, "did not confine himself to 
speeches, * * * but went from man to man, expostulating, beseeching, 
persuading, in his most winning way. * * * His success added greatly 
to his reputation and gave new strength to his influence." The result, says 
John Ouincy Adams, was "to bring into full display the talents and re- 
sources and influence of Mr. Clay." He was praised as "the great pacifi- 
cator" — a title which was confirmed by the deeds of his later life. 

Clay served as secretary of state during the administration of John 
Quincy Adams, but in 1S29, when Jackson, his bitter enemy, succeeded to 
the presidency, he retired for a short season to private life in his beautiful 



THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 



401 



Centucky home. But he was not to remain there; in 1 S3 1 he was 

gain elected to the Senate, where lie remained until 1842. The}- were 
tormy years. In South Carolina the opposition to the protective tariff had 
zd to the promulgation of the famous "nullification" theory — the doctrine 
hat any state had the power to declare a law of the United States null 
.nd void. Jackson, whose anger was thoroughly aroused, dealt with the 
evolt in summary fashion, threatening that if any resistance to the govern- 
ment was attempted he would instantly have the leaders ;:: and 
frought to trial for treason. Nevertheless, to allay the discontent of the 
5outh, Clay devised his Compromise Tariff of 1833, under which the duties 
irere to be gradually reduced, until they should reach a minimum of twenty 
>er cent. In 1S32 he allowed himself, very unwisely, to be a candidate for 
he presidency, Jackson's re-election being a foregone conclusion. In 1836 
.lined a nomination, and Van Buren was elected. Then followed the 
Sank of 1837, which insured the defeat of the party in power, and the elec- 
ion of the Whig candidate at the following presidential election ; but the 
>opularity of General Jackson had convinced the party managers that sue- 
ess demanded a military hero as a • ate; and accordingly General 
aarrison, "the hero of Tippecanoe," was elected, after the famous "Log 
Jabin and Hard Cider campaign " of 1840. This slight was deeply morti- 
ying to Clay, who had counted with confidence upon being the candidate 
>f the party. "I am the most unfortunate man in the history of parties," 
le truly remarked; "always run by my friends when sure to be defeated, 
.nd now betrayed for a nomination when I, or any one else, would be sure 
>f an election." 

In 1S44, however, Clay's opportunity came at last. He was so obvi- 
msly the Whig candidate that there was no opposition. The ciayasa 
:onvention met. at Baltimore in May, and he was nominated Presidential 
>y acclamation, with a shout that shook the building. Every- Ca n <i«iat<-' 
hing appeared to indicate success, and his supporters regarded his tri- 
lmphant election as certain. 

But into the politics of the time had come a new factor — the " Ltbertv 
)arty." This had been hitherto considered unimportant ; but the proposed 
tnnexation of Texas, which had become a prominent question, was opposed 
Sty many in the North who had hitherto voted with the Whig party. Clay 
vas a slaveholder; and though he had opposed the extension of slavery, his 
•ecord was not satisfactory to those who disapproved of the annexation of 
; s. In truth, the opposition to slavery in the North was rapidly gaining 
xditical strength, while the question of the annexation of Texas was looked 
lpon as one for the extension of the "peculiar institution," since Texas 



4 o2 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 

would, under the Missouri Compromise, fall into line as a slave state, and 

was large enough, if Congress should permit, to be cut up into a number of 

slave states. Clay was between two fires. He was distrusted 

TheContest ; n t j ie s out i 1 . wn il e his competitor, Polk, was pledged to 
of 1844 ' _ * ' . 

support the annexation of Texas. He was doubted in the 

North as a slaveholder. His old enemy, Jackson, used his influence strongly 
against him. The contest finally turned upon the vote of New York, and 
that proved so close that the suspense became painful. People did not go 
to bed, waiting for the delayed returns. The contest was singularly like 
that of Blaine and Garfield, forty years later, when the result again turned 
upon a close vote in the State of New York. When at last the decisive 
news was received, and the fact of Clay's defeat was assured, the Whigs 
broke out in a wail of agony all over the land. " It was," says Nathan Sar- 
gent, "as if the first-born of every family had been stricken down." The 
descriptions we have of the grief manifested are almost incredible. Tears 
flowed in abundance from the eyes of men and women. In the cities and 
villages the business places were almost deserted for a day or two, people 
gathering together in groups to discuss in low tones what had happened. 
The Whigs were fairly stunned by their defeat, and the Democrats failed 
to indulge in demonstrations of triumph, it being widely felt that a great 
wrong had been done. It was the opinion of many that there would be no 
hope thereafter of electing the great statesmen of the country to the 
presidency, and that this high office would in future be attained only by 
men of second-rate ability. 

The last and greatest work of the life of Henry Clay was the famous 
Compromise of 1850, which has been said to have postponed for ten years 

the great Civil War. At that period the sentiment against 
miseofl8 slavery was rapidly increasing in the North and had gained 

great strength. Though the number of free and slave states 
continued equal, the former were fast surpassing the latter in wealth and 
population. 

It was evident that slavery must have more territory or lose its political 
influence. Shut out of the northwest by the Missouri Compromise, it was 
supposed that a great field for its extension had been gained in Texas and the 
territory acquired from Mexico. But now California, a part of this territory 
which had been counted upon for slavery, was populated by a sudden rush 
of northern immigration, attracted by the discovery of gold ; and a state 
government was organized with a constitution excluding slavery, thus 
giving the free states a majority of one. Instead of adding to the area of 
slavery, the Mexican territory seemed likely to increase the strength of 



THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 

freedom. The South was both alarmed and i ated. Threats oi dis 

union were freely made. It was clear that prompt measures must be taken 
to allay the prevailing excitement, if disruption were to be avoided. In such 
an emergency it was natural that all eyes should turn to the "great pacifi- 
cator," Henry Clay. 

When, at the session of 1849-50, he appeared in the Senate to assist, if 
possible, in removing the slavery question from polities, Clay was an infirm 
and serious, but not sad. old man of seventy-two. lie never lost his cheer- 
fulness or faith, but he felt deeply for his distracted country. During that 
memorable session of Congress he spoke seventy times. Often extremely 

sick and feeble, scarcely aide, with the tance <>f a friend's 

111 ' 1 1 , • 1 1 1 An ° rator of 

arm, to climb the steps ot the Capitol, he was never absent seventy-two 

on the days when the compromise was to be debated. On 
the morning on which he began his great speech, he was accompanied by a 
clerical friend, to whom h • said, on reaching the long flight of steps leading 
to the Capitol, "Will you lend me your arm, my friend? for I find myself 
quite weak and exhausted this morning." Every few steps he was obli 
to stop and take breath. "Had you not better defer your speech ?" a; 
the clergyman. " My dear friend," said the dying orator. " I consider our 
country in danger ; and if I can be the means, in any measure, of averting 
that danger, my health or life is of little consequence." When he rose to 
speak it was but too evident that he was unfit for the task he had under- 
taken. But as he kindled with his subject, his cough left him, and his bent 
form resumed all its wonted erectness and majesty. lie may, in the prime 
of his strength, have spoken with more energy, but never with so much 
pathos or grandeur. His speech lasted two days; and though he lived two 
years longer, he never recovered from the effects of the effort. I he ther- 
Hiometer in the Senate chamber marked nearly 100 degrees. Toward the 
close of the second day, his friends repeatedly proposed an adjournment; 
but he would not desist until he had given complete utterance to his 
feelin-s. lb- >aid afterwards that he was not sure, if he gave way to an 
adjournment, that he should ever be able to resume. 

N< ver was Clay's devotion to the Union displayed in such thrilling and 
pathetic forms as in the course of this long debate. On one occasion allu- 
sion was made to a South Carolina hot-head, who had publicly 

, ,. ', Clav's Tribute 

proposed to raise the Hag of disunion. When Clay retorted to the Union 
by saying, that, if Mr. Rhett had really meant that pro- 
position, and should follow it up by corresponding acts, he would be a 
traitor, and added, "and I hope he will meet a traitor's fate," thunders of 
applause broke from the crow galleries. When the chairman succeeded 



404 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 

in restoring silence. Mr. Clay made that celebrated declaration which was so 
frequently quoted in 1861 : " If Kentucky to-morrow shall unfurl the banner 
of resistance unjustly, I will never fight under that banner. I owe para- 
mount allegiance to the whole Union, a subordinate one to my own 
state." Again : " The senator speaks of Virginia being my country. This 
Union, sir, is my country ; the thirty states are my country ; Kentucky is my 
country, and Virginia, no more than any state in the Union." And yet 
again: "There are those who think that the Union must be preserved by 
an exclusive reliance upon love and reason. That is not my opinion. I 
have some confidence in this instrumentality ; but, depend upon it, no 
human government can exist without the power of applying force, and the 
actual application of it in extreme cases." 

The compromise offered by Clay became known as the "Omnibus Bill," 
from the various measures it covered. It embraced the following provi- 
sions : 1. California should be admitted as a free state. 2. New Mexico 
and Utah should be formed into territories, and the question of the admis- 
sion of slavery be left for their people to decide. 3. Texas should give up 

part of the territory it claimed, and be paid $10,000,000 as 
' B - ii mr " " S a recom P ense - 4~ The slave-trade should be prohibited in 

the District of Columbia. 5. A stringent law for the return 
of fugitive slaves to their masters should be enacted. 

The question concerning Texas was the following : Texas claimed that 
its western boundary followed the Rio Grande to its source. This took in 
territory which had never been part of Texas, but the claim was strongly 
pushed, and was settled in the manner above stated. The serious question, 
however, in this compromise was that concerning the return of fugitive 
slaves. When an effort was made to enforce the Fugitive Slave Law great 
opposition was excited, on account of the stringency of its provisions. The 
fugitive, when arrested, was not permitted to testify in his own behalf or to 
claim trial by jury, and all persons were required to assist the' United States 
Effect of the marshal, when called upon for aid. To assist a fugitive to 
Fugitive Slave escape was an offence punishable by fine and imprisonment. ' 

In the last two respects the law failed; and its severe pro- 
visions added greatly to the strength of the anti-slavery party, and thus 
had much to do in bringing on the Civil War. 

Side by side with Clay in the senate stood another and greater figure, 
the majestic presence of Daniel Webster, one of the greatest orators the 
world has ever known, a man fitted to stand on the rostrum with Demos- 
thenes, the renowned orator of Greece, or with Chatham, Burke, or Glad- 
stone of the British parliament 



THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 405 

In the hall of the United States Senate, on January 26, 1830, occurred 
what may be considered the most memorable scene in the annals of Congress. 
It was then thai Daniel Webster made his famous " Reply to 
Hayne," — that renowned speech which has been declared the e ' ' ep y „ 
greatest oration ever made in Congress, and which, in its far- 
reaching effect upon the public mind, did so much to shape the future destiny 
of the American Union. That speech was Webster's crowning work, and the 
event of his life by which lie will lie best known to posterity. 

Nothing in our history is more striking than the contrast between the 
Union of the time ol Washington and the Union of the time of Lincoln. 
It was not merely that in the intervening seventy-two years the republic 
had grown great and powerful ; it was that the popular sentiment toward 
the Union was transformed. The old feeling of distrust and jealousy had 
given place to a passionate attachment. It was as though a puny, sickly, 
feeble child, not expected by its parents even to live, had come to be their 
strong defense and support, their joy and pride. A weak league of states 
had become a strong nation ; and when in [861 it was attacked, millions of 
men were ready to fight for its defence. What brought about this great 
change? What was it that stirred the larger patriotism that gave shape 
and purpose to this growing feeling of national pride and unity? It was in 
a great degree the work of Daniel Webster. It was he who maintained and 
advocated the theory that the Federal Constitution created, not a league, 
but a nation; that it welded the people into organic union, supreme and per- 
petual. Me it was who set forth in splendid completeness the picture of a 
great nation, inseparably united, commanding the first allegiance and loyalty 
of every citizen ; and who so fostered and strengthened the sentiment of union 
that, when the great struggle came, it had grown too strong to be over- 
thrown. 

No description of Daniel Webster is complete or adequate which fails 
to describe his extraordinary personal appearance. In lace, form and voice 
nature did her utmost for him. So impressive was his pre- Webster's Per. 
sence that men commonly spoke of this man of five feet ten sonal Appear- 
inches in height and less than two hundred pounds in weight 
as a giant, lie seemed to dwarf those surrounding him. His head was very 
large, but of noble shape, with broad and lofty brow, and strong but finely 
cut features. His eyes were remarkable. They were large and deep-set, 
and in the excitement of an eloquent appeal they glowed with the deep 
light of the lire of a forge. His voice was in harmony with his appearance. 
In conversation it was low and musical ; in debate it was high but full. In 
moments of excitement it rang out like a clarion, whence it would sink into 



4 o6 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 

notes ol the solemn richness of organ tones, while the grace and dignity of 
V i nd P r ^' s manner added greatly to the impressive delivery of his 
sonal Mag- words. That wonderful quality which we call personal mag- 
netism of netism, the power of impressing by one's personality every 
human being who comes near, was at its height in Mr. 
Webster. He never punished his children. It sufficed, when they did 
wrong, to send for them and look at them in silence. The look, whether 
of sorrow or anger, was rebuke and punishment enough. 

As an orator, Mr. Webster's most famous speeches were the Plymouth 

Rock address, in 1820; the Bunker Hill Monument address, in 1825 ; and his 

orations in the Senate in 1830 in reply to Hayne, and in 1850 on Clay's 

Compromise Bill. Greatest among these was the speech in reply to Robert 

Y. Hayne, of South Carolina, on the 26th of January, 1830. The Union 

was threatened, and Webster rose to the utmost height of his 

N irf=<- t"° nn P ass i° ne d genius in this thrilling appeal for its preservation 

and endurance. The question under debate was the right of a 

state to nullify the acts of Congress. Hayne, in sustaining the affirmative 

of this dangerous proposition, had bitterly assailed New England, and had 

attacked Mr. Webster by caustic personalities, rousing "the giant" to a 

crushing reply. 

'There was," says Edward Everett, "a very great excitement in 
Washington, growing out of the controversies of the day, and the action 
of the South ; and party spirit ran uncommonly high. There seemed to 
be a preconcerted action on the part of the southern members to break 
down the northern men, and to destroy their force and influence by a pre- 
meditated onslaught. 

" Mr. Hayne's speech was an eloquent one, as all know who ever read 
it. He was considered the foremost southerner in debate, except Calhoun, 
who was vice-president and could not enter the arena. Mr. Hayne was the 
champion of the southern side. Those who heard his speech felt much 
alarm, for two reasons ; first, on account of its eloquence and power, and 
second, because of its many personalities. It was thought by many who 
heard it, and by some of Mr. Webster's personal friends, that it was im- 
possible for him to answer the speech. 

1 1 shared a little myself in that fear and apprehension," said Mr. 

Everett. " I knew from what I heard concerning General Hayne's speech 

that it was a very masterly effort, and delivered with a great 

?^"^ s s peec deal of power and with an air of triumph. I was engaged 

on that day in a committee of which I was chairman, and 

could not be present in the Senate. But immediately after the adjournment, 



THE PRESERVATION OE THE UNION 4oy 

I hastened to Mr. Webster's house, with, I admit, some little trepidation, 
not knowing how I should find him. But I was quite re-assured in a 
moment after seeing Mr. Webster, and observing his entire calmness. lie 
seemed to be as much at ease and as unmoved as I ever saw him. Indeed, 
at first I was a little afraid from this that he was not quite aware of the 
magnitude of the contest. I said at once 

" ' Mr. Hayne has made a speech ?' 

"'Yes, he has made a speech.' 

"'You reply in the morning?' 

"'Yes,' said Mr. Webster, ' I do not propose to let the case go by de- 
fault, and without saying a word.' 

'"Did you take notes, Mr. Webster, of Mr. Hayne's speech?' 

"Mr. Webster took from his vest pocket a piece of paper about as big 
as the palm of his hand, and replied, ' I have it all : that is Webster 
his Speech.' Preparesfor 

"I immediately arose," said Mr. Everett, "and remarked py 

to him that I would not disturb him longer; Mr. Webster desired me not 
to hasten, as he had no desire to be alone ; but I left." 

"On the morning of the memorable day," writes Mr. Lodge, "the 
Senate chamber was packed by an eager and excited crowd. Every seat on 
the floor and in the galleries was occupied, and all the available standing- 
room was filled. The protracted debate, conducted with so much ability on 
both sides, had excited the attention of the whole country, and had given 
time for the arrival of hundreds of interested spectators from all parts of 
the Union, and especially from New England. 

" In the midst of the hush of expectation, in that dead silence which 
is so peculiarly oppressive because it is possible only when many human 
beings are gathered together, Mr. Webster arose. His personal grandeur 
and his majestic calm thrilled all who looked upon him. With perfect 
quietness, unaffected apparently by the atmosphere of intense feeling about 
/.(im, he said, in a low, even tone: 

"' Mr. President: When the mariner has been tossed for many days in 
thick weather and on an unknown sea, he naturally avails himself of the first 
pause in the storm, the earliest glance of the sun, to take his xhe Opening 
latitude and ascertain how far the elements have driven him of a Great 
from his true course. Let us imitate this prudence ; and peec 
before we float farther on the waves of this debate, refer to the point from 
which we departed, that we may, at least, be able to conjecture where we are 
now. I ask for the reading of the resolution before the Senate.' 



4 o8 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 

"This opening sentence was a piece of consummate art. The simple 
and appropriate image, the low voice, the calm manner, relieved the strained 
excitement of the audience, which might have ended by disconcerting the 
speaker if it had been maintained. Every one was now at his ease ; and 
when the monotonous reading of the resolution ceased, Mr. Webster was 
master of the situation, and had his listeners in complete control." 

With breathless attention they followed him as he proceeded. The 
strong, masculine sentences, the sarcasm, the pathos, the reasoning, the 
burning appeals to love of state and country, flowed on unbroken. As 
his feelings warmed the fire came into his eyes ; there was a glow in his 
swarthy cheek ; his strong right arm seemed to sweep away resistlessly 
the whole phalanx of his opponents, and the deep and melodious cadences 
of his voice sounded like harmonious organ tones as they filled the chamber 
with their music. Who that ever read or heard it can forget the closing 
passage of that glorious speech ? 

" When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in 

heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments 

of a once glorious Union ; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on 

a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let 

their last feeble and lingering glance behold rather the glori- 

agrn icer Qug ens jp- n f t j ie re public, now known and honored through- 
Peroration . . 

out the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies 

streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single 

star obscured ; bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, 

What is all this worth ? or those other words of delusion and folly, Liberty 

first, and Union afterwards ; but everywhere, spread all over in characters 

of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and 

over the land, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart, — 

Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable !" 

As the last words died away into silence, those who had listened looked 

wonderingly at each other, dimly conscious that they had heard one of the 

grand speeches which are landmarks in the history of eloquence ; and the 

men of the North and of New England went forth full of the pride of 

victory, for their champion had triumphed, and no assurance was needed to 

prove to the world that this time no answer could be made. 

Calhoun, the The great supporter of the doctrine which Hayne advo- 

Advocateof cated and which Webster tore into shreds and fragments, the 

ery indefatigable sustainer of the institution of slavery in the 

United States Congress, was John C. Calhoun. That this man was sincere 

in his conviction that slavery was morally and politically right, and beneficial 





1'HOMAS JEFFERSON 



ANDREW JACKSON. i- ■ 




[OHN Ql INC\ IDAMS - •- 



/ \i 1IAKV I AYLl 'R 




PATRK.K HENRY. 



HKXRY CLAY 



DANIEL WEBSIER. 




HENRY WARD BEECH ER. 



JUHN li. GOUGH. 



HENRY W. GRADY. 




CttAUNCEY M. DEPEW. WENDELL PHILLIPS. EDWARD EVERETT 

p.dcat jviFDiriM npATnPQ 4\rn qtatfcvtpn 



THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 4II 

alike to white and black, to North and South, nc one has questioned. He 
was one of the most upright of men; one devoid of pretence or conceal- 
ment : a man of pure honesty of purpose and great ability and in conse- 
quence of immensi influence. His own stale followed his lead with unques- 
tioning faith, and it is not too much to say that the slavery conflict was in 
great measure due to the doctrines which he unceasingly advocated for a 
quarter of a century. 

Calhoun is equally well known for his state rights championship and 
in connection with the effort of South Carolina to secede from the Union, 
as a consequence of the tariff hill of 1828. This measure, which, consider- 
ably increased the duties on imports, aroused bitter opposition in the South, 
where it was styled the "Tariff of Abominations." On its passage Calhoun 
prepared a vigorous paper called the- " South Carolina Exposi- The Sotlt(l 
tion," in which he maintained that the Constitution limited the Carolina Ex- 
right of Congress to exact tariff charges to the purpose of position 
revenue; that protective duties were, therefore, unconstitutional; and that 
any state had the right to declare an un tutional law null and void, 

and forbid its execution in that state. Such was the famous doctrine of 
" nullification." 

This paper was issued in [828, Calhoun being then Vice-President un- 
der Jackson, and as such president of the senate. In 1829, the long debate 
0.1 the question : "Does the Constitution make us one sovereign nation or 
only a league of separate states?" reached its height. Its climax came in 
January, 1830, in the remarkable contest between Webster and I Iavne, 
above described. Webster showed that an attempt to nullify the laws of 
the nation was treason, ami would lead to revolution, in the employment 
of armed force to sustain it. 

To such a revolutionary measure South Carolina proceeded. After the 
presidential election of 1X32, Calhoun, who had resigned the vice-presi- 
dency, called a convention ol the people of the state, which The Ordinance 
passed the famous Ordinance of Nullification, declaring of Nullifica- 
the 182S tariff null and void in that state. tion 

The passage of the ordinance created intense excitement throughout 
the states. Everywhere the dread of civil war ami of the dissolution of the 
Union was entertained. Fortunately there was a Jackson, and not a 
Buchanan, in the presidential chair. Jackson was not a model President 
under ordinary circumst; but he was just the man for an emergency of 

this character, and he dealt with it much as he had dealt with the- Spaniards 
in Florida. On December 10, 1832, came out his vigorous proclamation 
against nullification. The governor of South Carolina issued a counter 



{12 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 

proclamation, and called out twelve thousand volunteers. A crisis seemed 

at hand. Congress passed a " Force Bill " to provide for the 

t s .?^, &n ^ collection of the revenue in South Carolina, though Calhoun 
Nullification _ to 

— then in the Senate — opposed it in the most powerful of his 

speeches. It is said that Jackson warned him that, if any resistance to the 

government was made in South Carolina, he would be at once arrested on 

a charge of treason. 

The President made prompt preparations to suppress the threatened 

revolt by force of arms, troops and naval vessels being sent to Charleston. 

But at the same time Congress made concessions to South Carolina and the 

crisis passed. It was through the efforts of Henry Clay as already specified 

that this warcloud was dissipated. The tariff question settled, 
Calhoun Seeks , , . „,. . . , , . 

to Force the the slavery issue grew prominent. 1 he agitation ot this ques- 

Issueof tion, from 183510 1850, was chiefly the work of one man, John C. 

avery Calhoun. Parton says that "the labors of Mr. Garrison and 

Mr. Wendell Phillips might have borne no fruit during their lifetime, if Cal- 
houn had not made it his business to supply them with material. ' I mean 
to force the issue on the North,' he once wrote ; and he did force it. 

This chapter cannot be more fitly closed than with a quotation from 
Harriet Martineau, in whose "Retrospect of Western Travel" we find the 
following pen-picture of the three great statesmen above treated : " Mr. 
Clay sitting upright on the sofa, with his snuff-box ever in his hand, would 
A Pen Picture of discourse for many an hour in his even, soft, deliberate tone, 

Three Qreat on any one of the great subjects of American policy which 
we might happen to start, always amazing us with the moder^ 
ation of estimate and speech which so impetuous a nature has been able to 
attain. Mr. Webster, leaning back at his ease, telling stories, cracking 
jokes, shaking the sofa with burst after burst of laughter, or smoothly dis- 
coursing to the perfect felicity of the logical part of one's constitution, would 
illuminate an evening now and then. Mr. Calhoun, the cast-iron man, who 
looks as if he had never been born and could never be extinguished, would 
come in sometimes to keep our understanding on a painful stretch for 3 
short while, and leave us to take to pieces his close, rapid, theoretical, illus- 
trated talk, and see what we could make of it. We found it usually more 
worth retaining as a curiosity, than as either very just or useful. 

" I know of no man who lives in such utter intellectual solitude. He 
meets men and harangues by the fireside as in the Senate ; he is wrought 
like a piece of machinery, set going vehemently by a weight, ■ and stops 
while you answer ; he either passes by what you say, or twists it into a 
suitability with what is in his head, and begins to lecture again." 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The Annexation of Texas and the War with 

Mexico. 

WE have spoken, in Chapter xxiii, of the revolt of Texas from Mexico 
and the annexation of the newly formed republic to the United 
States. In the present chapter it is proposed to deal more fully 
with this subject and describe its results in the war with Mexico. In the 
year 1821, after more than ten years of struggle for freedom, Mexico Gains 
Mexico won its independence from Spain, and soon after its Indepen- 
founded a constitutional monarchy, with Augustin de Iturbide, ence 
the head of the revolutionary government, as emperor. This empire did 
not last long. General Santa Anna proclaimed a republic in 1823, and the 
emperor was obliged to resign his crown. In the following year he returned 
to Mexico with the hope of recovering his lost crown ; but, on the contrary, 
was arrested and shot as a traitor. Mexico is not a good country for 
emperors. About forty years afterward, a second emperor, sent there by 
1' ranee, was disposed of in the same manner. 

The establishment of the republic was followed by earnest efforts in 
favor of the settlement and development of the unoccupied territory of the 
country, and Texas, a large province in its northeastern boundary, began to be 

settled by immigrants, very largely from the United States. 

„ , . • , , 11 The Settlement 

by 1830 the American population numbered about 20,000, f Texas 

being much in excess of that of Mexican origin. These 

people were largely of the pioneer class, bold, unruly, energetic frontiersmen, 

difficult to control under any government, and unanimous in their detestation 

of the tyranny of Mexican rule. Their American spirit rose against the 

dominance of those whom they called by tin- offensive title of "greasers," 

and in 1832 they broke into rebellion and drove all the Mexican troops out 

of the country. 

It was this revolt that brought the famous Samuel Houston to Texas. 

The early life of this born leader had been spent on the Tennessee frontier, 

and during much of his boyhood he had lived among the Cherokee Indians, 

who looked up to him as to one of their head chiefs. He fought under 

413 



414 ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 

Jackson in the war of 1S12, and was desperately wounded in the Creek 

War. He subsequently studied law, was elected to Congress, and in 1827 

The Career became governor of Tennessee. An unhappy marriage brought 

of General to an end this promising part of his career. A separation 

from his wife was followed by calumnies on the part of her 
friends, which became so bitter that Houston, in disgust, left the state, and 
proceeded to Arkansas, where for three years he lived with his boyhood 
friends, the Cherokees. The outbreak in Texas offered a promising oppor- 
tunity to a man of his ambitious and enterprising disposition, and he set 
out for that region in December, 1832. 

For two years after Houston joined fortunes with Texas there was com- 
parative quiet ; but immigration went on in a steadily increasing stream, 
and the sentiment for independence grew stronger every day. The Mexi- 
can government, in fear of the growing strength of Texas, ordered that the 

people should be disarmed — a decree which aroused instant re- 
War in Texas bellion. A company of Mexican soldiers sent to the little 
town of Gonzales, on the Guadalupe, to remove a small brass six-pounder, 
was met a few miles from the town by one hundred and eighty Texans, who 
fell upon them with such vigor that they turned and fled, losing several men. 
No Texan was killed. This battle was called " the Lexington of Texas." 

Then war broke out again more furiously than ever. The Mexican 
soldiers, who were under weak and incompetent commanders, were again 
dispersed and driven out of the country. But now Santa Anna himself, the 
Mexican dictator, an able general, but a false and cruel man, took the field. 
With an army of several thousand men, he crossed the Rio Grande, and 
marched against the Texans. 

The town of Bexar, on the San Antonio River, was defended by a 
garrison of about one hundred and seventy-five men. Among them were 
two whose names are still famous — David Crockett, the renowned pioneer, 
and Colonel James Bowie, noted for his murderous " bowie-knife," his duels, 
and his deeds of valor and shame. The company was commanded by Colonel 
W. Barrett Travis, a brave young Texan. On the approach of Santa 
Anna, they took refuge in the Alamo, about half a mile to the north of the town. 
The Alamo was an ancient Franciscan mission of the eighteenth 
century. It covered an area of about three acres, surrounded by walls 
three feet thick and eicrht feet hicrh. Within the walls were a stone church 
The Massacre an< ^ several other buildings. For two weeks it withstood 
of the Alamo Santa Anna's assaults. A shower of bombs and cannon-balls 

fell incessantly within the walls. At last, after a brave de- 
fense by the little garrison, the fortress was captured, in the early morning 



ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 



415 



of Sunday, March 6, 1836. After the surrender, Travis, Howie and 
Crockett, with all their companions, were by Santa Anna's especial com- 
mand massacred in cold blood. 

But this was not the worst ; a few days afterwards a company of over 
four hundred Texans, under Colonel Fannin, besieged at Goliad, were in- 
duced to surrender, under Santa Anna's solemn promises of protection. 
After the surrender tiny were divided into several companies, marched in 
different directions a short distance out of the town, and shot down like 
dogs by the Mexican soldiers. Xot a man escaped. 

While these horrible events were taking place. Houston was at Gonza- 
les, with a force of less than four hundred men. Meetings were held in the 
different settlements to raise an arm)- to resist tin- Mexican invasion ; and a 
convention of the people issued a proclamation declaring Texas a free and 
independent republic. It was two weeks before General Houston received 
intelligence of the atrocious massacres at Bexar and Goliad, and of Santa 
Anna's advance. The country was in a state of panic. Settlers were 
everywhere abandoning their homes, and fleeing in terror at the approach 
of the Mexican soldiers. Houston's force of a few hundred men was the 
only defense of Texas; and even this was diminished by frequent desertion 
from the ranks. The cause of Texan freedom seemed utterly hopeless. 

In order to gain time, while watching his opportunity for attack, Hous- 
ton slowly retreated before the Mexican army. After waiting two weeks 
for reinforcements, he moved toward Buffalo Bayou, a deep, narrow stream 
connecting with the San Jacinto River, about twenty miles Q enera | Houston 
southeast of the present city of Houston. Here he expected and Santa 
to meet the Mexican army. The lines being formed. General 
Houston made one of his most impassioned and eloquent appeals to his troops, 
firing every breast by giving as a watchword, " Remember the Alamo." 

Soon the Mexican bugles rang out over the prairie, announcing the 
advance guard of the enemy, almost eighteen hundred strong. The rank 
and file of the patriots was less than seven hundred and fifty men. 'I heir 
disadvantages only served to increase the enthusiasm of the soldiers ; and 
when their general said, "Men. there is tin; enemy; do you wish to fight?' 
the universal shout was, "We do!" "Well, then," he said, "remember it 
is for liberty or death ; remember the Alamo!" 

At the moment of attack, a lieutenant came galloping up, his horse 
covered with foam, and shouted along the lines, " I've cut down Yince's 
bridge." Each army had used this bridge in coming to the battle-field, and 
General Houston had ordered its destruction, thus preventing all hope of 
escape to the vanquish* 



416 ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 

Santa Anna's forces were in perfect order, awaiting the attack, and 
reserved their fire until the patriots were within sixty paces of their works. 
Then they poured forth a volley, which went over the heads of the at- 
tackers, though a ball struck General Houston's ankle, inflict- 
San J "nt * n & a vei T paioful wound. Though suffering and bleeding, 
General Houston kept his saddle during the entire action. 
The patriots held their fire until it was given to the enemy almost in their 
very bosoms, and then, having no time to reload, made a general rush upon 
the foe, who were altogether unprepared for the furious charge. The 
patriots not having bayonets, clubbed their rifles. About half-past four the 
Mexican rout began, and closed only with the night. Seven of the patriots 
were killed and twenty-three were wounded ; while the Mexicans had six 
hundred and thirty-two killed and wounded, and seven hundred and thirty, 
among whom was Santa Anna, made prisoners. 

The victory of San Jacinto struck the fetters forever from the hands of 
Texas, and drove back the standard of Mexico beyond the Rio Grande, 
never to return except in predatory and transient incursions. General 
Houston became at once the leading man in Texas, almost universal ap- 
plause following him. As soon as quiet and order were restored, he was 
made the first President of the new republic, under the Constitution adopted 
in November, 1835. 

In 1837 the republic of Texas was acknowledged by the United States, 
and in 1840 by Great Britain, France and Belgium. The population was 
overwhelmingly of American origin, and these people had in no sense lost 
their love for their former country, a sentiment in favor of the annexation 
of the " Lone Star State" to the United States being from the first enter- 
Texas Applies tained. In 1837 a formal application for admission as a state 
for Admission of the American Union was made. This proposition found 
many advocates and many opposers in this country, it being 
strongly objected to by northern Congressmen and favored by those from 
the South. The controversy turned upon the question of the extension of 
the area of slavery, which was a matter of importance to the South, while 
others who supported it held large tracts of land in Texas which they 
hoped would increase in value under United States rule. 

As a result of the opposition, the question remained open for years, 
and was prominent in the presidential campaign of 1844, > n which Henry 
Clay, the Whig candidate, was defeated, and James K. Polk, the Demo- 
cratic candidate, was elected on the annexation platform. This settled the 
dispute. The people had expressed their will and the opposition yielded. 
Both Houses of Congress passed a bill in favor of admitting Texas as a 



ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 417 

state, and it was signed by President Tyler in the closing hours of his 

administration. The offer was unanimously accepted by the legislature of 

Texas on July 4, 1S45, and it became a state of the American Union in 

December of that year. 

In admitting Texas, Congress had opened the way to serious trouble. 

Though Mexico had taken no steps to re-cover its lost province, it had 

never acknowledged its independence, and stood over it somewhat like the 

doej in the manner, not prepared to take it, vet vigorously 

. . rr 'J & J jviexico Protests 

protesting against any other power doing so. Its protest 

against the action of the United States was soon followed by a more 
critical exigency, an active boundary dispute. Texas claimed the Rio 
Grande River as her western boundary. Mexico held that the Nueces 
River was the true boundary. Between these two streams lay a broad tract 
of land claimed by both nations, and which both soon sought to occupy. 
War arose in consequence of this ownership dispute. 

In the summer of 1845 President Polk directed General Zachary 
Taylor to proceed to Corpus Christi, on the Nueces, and in the spring of 
1846 he received orders to march to the Rio Grande. As soon as this 
movement was made, the Mexicans claimed that their terri- 
tory had been invaded, ordered Taylor to retire, and on his ls| '" e 
refusal sent a body of troops across the river. Both countries 
were ripe for war, and both had taken steps to bring it on. A hostile 
meeting took place on April 24th, with some loss to both sides. On receiv- 
ing word by telegraph of this skirmish, the President at once sent a mes- 
sage to Congress, saying : " Mexico has passed the boundary of the United 
States, and shed American blood upon American soil. * * * War 
exists, notwithstanding all our efforts to avoid it." 

The efforts to avoid it had not been active. There was rather an 
effort to favor it. Abraham Lincoln, then a member of war Declared 
Congress, asked pointedly if special efforts had not been Against 
taken to provoke a war. But Congress responded favorably 
to the President's appeal, declared that war existed "by the act of Mexii 
and called for fifty thousand volunteers. 

The declaration of war was dated May 13, 1846. Several days before 
this, severe fights had taken place at Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, on 
the disputed territory. The Mexicans were defeated, and retreated across 
the Rio Grande. They were quickly followed by Taylor, who took posses- 
sion of the town of Matamoras. The plan of war laid out embraced an 
invasion of Mexico from four quarters. Taylor was to march southward 
from his position on the Rio Grande, General Winfield Scott to advance on 



418 ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 

the capital by the way of Vera Cruz, General Stephen W, Kearny to in- 
vade New Mexico, and California was to be attacked by a naval expedition, 
already despatched. 

Taylor was quick to act after receiving reinforcements. He advanced 

on September 5th, and on the 9th reached Monterey, a strongly fortified 

interior town. The Mexicans looked upon this place as almost 

The storming impregnable, it being surrounded by mountains and ravines, 
of Monterey , -. r 

difficult to pass and easy of defense. Yet the Americans 

quickly penetrated to the walls, and were soon within the town, where a 
severe and bloody conflict took place. The stormers made their way over 
the house roofs and through excavations in the adobe walls, and in four 
days' time were in possession of the town which the Mexicans had confi- 
dently counted upon stopping their march. 

Some months passed before Taylor was in condition to advance again, 

his force being much depleted by reinforcements sent to General Scott. It 

was February, 1847, when he took the field once more, reaching a position 

south of Monterey known as Buena Vista, a narrow mountain 

Taylor at pass, with hills on one side and a ravine on the other. This 

Buena Vista L 

bold advance of an army not more than 5,000 strong seemed 

a splendid opportunity to Santa Anna, then commander-in-chief of the 
Mexican army, who marched on the small American force with 20,000 men. 
The battle that followed was the most interesting and hard fought one in 
the war. Santa Anna hoped to crush the Americans utterly, and would 
perhaps have done so but for the advantage of their position and the effec- 
tive service of their artillery. 

" You are surrounded by twenty thousand men, and cannot, in all 
human probability, avoid suffering rout and being cut to pieces with your 
troops." Such were the alarming words with which the Mexican general 
accompanied a summons to General Taylor to surrender within an hour. 
Taylor's answer was polite but brief. "In answer to your note of this date 
summoning me to surrender my forces at discretion, I beg leave to say that 
I decline acceeding to your request." 

General Taylor, or " Rough and Ready" as he was affectionately called 
by his men. had long before — he was now sixty-three years old — won his spurs 
on the battlefield. He was short, round-shouldered, and stout. His fore- 
head was high, his eyes keen, his mouth firm, with the lower lip protruding, 
his hair snow-white, and his expression betokened his essentially humane 
and unassuming character. No private could have lived in simpler fashion. 
When he could escape from his uniform he wore a linen roundabout, cotton 
trousers, and a straw hat, and, if it rained, an old brown overcoat. In battle 




Captai 



RATTLE OF RESACA DE LA PALMA 

BATTLt ur lwh osehorse S could d., a like feat, and was among 

undred of his men were made 



„ May leaped his s.eed over ,he parapets. Mb^l tg those £«. mer, *^« 
Vg— the ne*« moment, 



ANNEXATION OF TEXAS- WAR WITH MEXICO 421 

he was absolutely fearless, and invariably rode a favourite white horse, alto- 
gether regardless of attracting the enemy's attention. The old hero never 
wavered when he heard of the approach of the dreaded Santa Anna. He 
quietly went to work, and, having strongly garrisoned Saltillo, placed his 
men so as to seize all the advantages the position offered. 

Imagine a narrow valley between two mountain ranges. On the west 
side of the road a series of gullies or ravines, on the east the sheer sides of 
precipitous mountains. Such was the Pass of Angostura, 

which, at one spot three miles from Buena Vista, could be ^ ''? ° 

. Battle 

held as easily as Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days 
of old ; and here was placed Captain Washington's batter) - of three guns, with 
two companies as a guard. Up the mountain to the eastward the rest of the 
American army was ranged, more especially on a plateau so high as to com- 
mand all the ground east and west, and only approachable from the south 
or north by intricate windings formed by ledges of rock. 

At nine o'clock on the morning of the 22c! of February the advance 
pickets espied the Mexican van, and General Wool sent in hot haste to 
Taylor, who was at Saltillo. The Mexican arm)' dragged its slow length 
along, its resplendent uniforms shining in the sun. With much the same 
feelings as Macbeth saw Birnam Wood approach, must man)' of the Amer- 
icans have watched the coming of this forest of steel. Two hours after the 
pickets had announced the van, a Mexican officer came forward with a white 
flag. He bore the imperious message from the dictator the opening words 
of which have already been quoted. 

The fight on that day was confined to an exchange of artillery shots, 
and at nightfall Taylor returned to Saltillo, seeing that the affair was over 
for tin; time. But during the night the Mexicans made a movement that 
put the small American force in serious peril. While the Americans 
bivouacked without fires in the bitter chill of the mountain height, some 
1,500 Mexicans gained the summit under cover of the darkness, and when 
the mists of morning rose tin; Americans, to their surprise and chagrin, saw 
everywhere before them the batallions of the enemy. 

Up the pass soon came heavy force, in the face of Captain Washing- 
ton's battery, while a rush, that seemed as if it must be. irresistable, was 
made for the plateau. The fight here was desperate. The soldiers of 
neither army had had any experience in battle, and an Indiana The Mexican 
regiment retreated at the command of its colonel, and could Cavalry 
not be rallied again. This imperilled the safety of all who arge 

remained, many of them being killed, while only the active service of the 
artillery prevented the loss of the plateau, upon whose safe keeping 



422 ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 

depended the issue of the day. So fierce was the Mexican charge that 
every cannonier of the advanced battery fell beside his gun, and Captain 
O'Brien was obliged to fall back in haste,losinghisguns. He replaced them by 
two six pounders, borrowed from Captain Washington, who had repulsed the 
attack in the pass. Meanwhile, more American artillery on O'Brien's left 
was driving the Mexicans back upon the cavalry opposed to the gallant 
captain. The Mexican lancers charged the Illinois soldiers — "the very 
earth did shake." It was not until the lancers were within a few yards of 
O'Brien that he opened fire. This gave the Mexicans pause, but with cries 
of " God and Liberty !" on they came. Once more the deadly cannonade — ■ 
another pause. O'Brien determined to stand his ground until 
Batt" S t ' ie no °f s °f tne enemy's horses were upon him, but the 

recruits with him, only few of whom had escaped from being 
shot down, had no stomach left for fighting. The intrepid captain again lost 
his pieces, but he had saved the day. 

At this point the leisurely General Taylor, on his white horse, so easily 
recognisable, came from Saltillo to the field of battle. North of the chief 
plateau was another, where the Mississippi Rifles, under Colonel Davis — ■ 
who, although early wounded, kept his horse all day — stood at bay, formed 
into a V-shape with the opening towards the enemy. Nothing loth, the 
Mexican lancers rushed on, and the riflemen did not fire until they were 
able to recognize the features of their foe and to take deliberate aim at their 
eyes. This coolness was too great to be combated. 

For hours the active and deadly struggle went on. The Mexican 
lancers made an assault on Buena Vista, where were the American baggage 
and supply train, but were driven off after a sharp contest. At a later hour 
of the day the brunt of the fight was being borne by the Illinois regiment 
and the Second Kentucky Cavalry, who were in serious straits when Taylor 
sent to their relief a light battery under Captain Bragg. It was quickly in 
peril. The Mexicans captured the foremost guns and repulsed the infantry 
support. 

Bragg appealed for fresh help. " I have no reinforcements to give 

you," " Rough and Ready " is reported to have replied, " but Major Bliss 

and I will support you " ; and the brave old man spurred his horse to the 

spot beside the cannon. Unheeding; the Mexican cavalry 

The Work of r , - . , , , • r ^ , 

Captain Bragg r °d e forward — the day was now theirs for a certainty, " God 

and Liberty !" their proud cry again rang out. Their horses 
galloped so near to Captain Bragg's coign of vantage that their riders had 
no time in which to pull them up before the battery opened fire with canis- 
ter. As the smoke cleared, the little group of Americans saw the terrible 



ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 423 

work they had done in the gaps in the enemy's ranks, and heard it in the 
screams of men and horses in agony. They reloaded with grape. i he 
Mexicans pressed on ; their courage at the cannon's mouth was truly mar- 
velous. This second shower of lead did equal, if not greater, mischief. 
A third discharge completely routed the enemy, who, being human, lied in 
headlong haste over the wounded and the dead — no matter where. The 
American infantry pursued the living foe, with foolish rashness, beyond safe 
limits. The Mexicans, all on an instant, turned about, the hounds became 
the hare, and had it not been for Washington's cannon checking the' Mexi- 
can cavalry, who had had enough grape and canister for one day, they 
would have been annihilated. 

At six o'clock, after ten hours of fierce ami uninterrupted lighting, the 
battle came to an end, both armies occupying the same positions as in the 
morning, though each had lost heavily during the day. General Taylor 
expected the battle to be renewed in the morning, but with daylight came 
the welcome news that the enemy had disappeared. The five thousand had 
held their own against four times their number, and the victory that was to 
make General Taylor President of the United States had been won. 

Meanwhile General Scott, the hero of Chippewa and Lundy's Lane in 
1814, had sailed down the Gulf with a considerable force to the seaport city 
of Vera Cruz, which was taken after a brief bombardment. From here 
an overland march of two hundred miles was made to the Scott's Advance 
Mexican capital. Scott reached the vicinity of the City of Against the 
Mexico with a force 11,000 strong, and found its approaches 
strongly fortified and guarded by 30,000 men. Vet he pushed on almost 
unchecked. Victories were won at Contreras and Churubusco, the defences 
surrounding the city were taken, and on September 13th the most formid- 
able of them all, the strong hill fortress of Chapultepec, was carried by 
storm, the American troops charging up a steep hill in face of a severe fire 
and driving the garrison in dismay from their guns. 

This ended the war in that quarter. The next day the star and stripes 
waved over the famous " Halls of the Montezumas" and the city was ours. 
On February 2, 1S4S, a treaty of peace was signed at the village of Guada- 
lupe Hidalgo, whose terms gave the United States an accession of territory 
that was destined to prove of extraordinary value. 

New Mexico, a portion of this territory, had been invaded and occupied 
by General Kearny, who had taken Santa Fe after a thousand miles' march 
overland. Before the fleet sent to California could reach there, Captain 
John C. Fremont, in charge of a surveying party in Oregon, had invaded 
that country. He did not know that war had been declared, his purpose 



424 ANNEXATION OF TEX AS— WAR WITH MEXICO 

being to protect the American settlers, whom the Mexicans threatened to 

expel. Fremont was one of the daring pioneers who made 

ew J J 5 *!^ . their way over the mountains and plains of the West in the 
and California J '. 

days when Indian hostility and the difficulties raised by nature 
made this a very arduous and perilous enterprise. Several conflicts with 
the Mexicans, in which he was aided by the fleet, and later by General 
Kearny, who had crossed the wild interior from Santa Fe, gave Fremont 
control of that great country, which was destined almost to double the 
wealth of the United States. Whatever be thought of the ethics of the 
acquisition of Texas and the Mexican war, their economical advantages to 
the United States have been enormous, and the whole world has been en- 
riched by the product of California's golden sands and fertile fields. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

The Negro in America and the Slavery Conflict. 

WHEN, over two hundred and eighty years ago (it is in doubt 
whether the correct date is 1619 or 1620) a few wretched negn 
some say fourteen, some say twenty, were bartered for provisions 
by the crew of a Dutch man-of-war, then lying off the Virginia coast, it 
would h, 1 med incredible that in 1900 the negro population of the 

Southern States alone should reach very nearly eight million [ginning of 
souls. African n< indeed, been sold into slavery the Slave 

among many nations for perhaps three thousand years ; but in its ™ 
earlier periods slavery was rather the outcome of war than the deliberate 
subject of trade, and white captives no less than black were ruthlessly thrown 
into servitude. It has been estimated that in historical times some forty 
million Africans have been enslaved. The Spaniards found tint Indian an 
intractable slave, and for the arduous labors of colonization soon began to 
make use of negro slaves, importing them in great numbers and declaring 
that one negro was worth, as a human beast of burden, four Indians. Soon 
the English adventurers took up the traffic. It is to Sir John Hawkins, the 
ardent discoverer, that the English-speaking peoples owe their participation 
in the slave trade. He has put it on record, as the result of one of his famous 
voyages, that he found "that negroes were eery good merchandise in Hisp- 
aniola and might easily be had on the coast of Guinea." For his early 
adventures of this kind he was roundly taken to task by Queen Elizabeth. 
Hut tradition savs that he boldly faced her with the argument 
that the Africans were an inferior race, and ended by con- Numbers 
vincing the Virgin Queen that the slave trade was not merely 
a lucrative but a perfectly philanthropic undertaking. Certain it is that she 
acquiesced in future slave trading, while her successors Charles II. and James 
II. chartered four slave trading companies and received a share- in their 
profits. It is noteworthy that both Great Britain and the United States 
recognized the horrors of the slave trade as regards the seizing and trans- 
portation from Africa of the unhappy negroes, long before they could bring 
themselves to deal with the problem of slavery as a domestic institution. Oj 
those horrors nothing can be said in exaggeration. 



14 



425 



420 THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CON FLIC! 

The institution of slavery, introduced as we have seen into Virginia, 
grew at first very slowly. Twenty-five years after the first slaves were 
landed the negro population of the colony was only three hundred. But 
the conditions of agriculture and of climate were such that, once slavery 
Colonial Laws obtained a fair start, it spread with continually increasing 
About rapidity. We find the Colonial Assembly passing one after 

another a series of laws defining the condition of the negro 
slave more and more clearly, and more and more pitilessly. Thus, a dis- 
tinction was soon made between them and Indians held in servitude. It 
was enacted that "all servants not being Christians imported into this 
colony by shipping shall be slaves for their lives ; but what shall come by 
land shall serve, if boyes or girles. until thirty years of age ; if men or 
women, twelve years and no longer." And before the end of the century 
a long series of laws so encompassed the negro with limitations and pro- 
hibitions, that he almost ceased to have any criminal or civil rights and be- 
came a mere personal chattel. 

In some of the northern colonies slavery seemed to take root as readily 
and to flourish as rapidly as in the South. It was only after a considerable 
time that social and commercial conditions arose which led to its gradual 
Slavery in abandonment. In New York a mild type of negro slavery 

Early was introduced by the Dutch. The relation of master and 

slave seems in the period of the Dutch rule to have been free 
from great severity or cruelty. After the seizure of the government by the 
English, however, the institution was officially recognized and even en- 
couraged. The slave trade grew in magnitude ; and here again we find a 
series of oppressive laws forbidding meetings of negroes, laying down penalties 
for concealing slaves, and the like. When the Revolution broke out there 
were not less than fifteen thousand slaves in New York — a number greatly 
in excess of that held by any other northern colony. 

Massachusetts, the home in later days of so many of the most eloquent 
abolition agitators, was from the very first, until after the war with Great 
Britain was well under way, a stronghold of slavery. The records of 1633 
tell of the fright of Indians who saw a "Blackamoor" in a treetop, whom 
they took for the devil in person, but who turned out to be an escaped 
Slavery in slave. A few years later the authorities of the colony offici- 

nassachu- ally recognized the institution. To quote Chief Justice Par- 
sons, " Slavery was introduced into Massachusetts soon after 
its first settlement, and was tolerated until the ratification of the present 
constitution in 1780." The curious may find in ancient Boston newspapers 
no lack of such advertisements as that, in 1728, of the sale of "two very 



THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SI AVERY CONFLICT 427 

likely negro girls," and of "A likely negro woman of about nineteen years 
and a child about seven months of age, to be sold together or apart." A 
Tory writer before the outbreak of the Revolution sneers at the Bostonians 
for their talk about freedom when they possessed two thousand negro slaves. 
Even Peter Faneuil, who built the famous "Cradle of Liberty," was him- 
self, at that very time, actively 1 in the slave trade. There is some 
truth in the once common taunt of the pro-slaver) orators that the North 
imported slaves, the South only bought tl 

A with New York and Massachusetts, so with the other colonies. 
Either slavery was introduced by greedy speculators from abroad or it 

id easily from adjoining colonies. In 1776 the slave Ne gro Soldiers 
population of the thirteen colonies was almost exactly half a in the Revoiu- 
million, nine-tenths of whom were to be found in the southern tlon 
states. In the War of the Revolution the question of arming the negroes 
raised bitter opposition. In the end a comparatively few were- enrolled, 
ami it is admitted that they served faithfully and with courage. Rhode 
Island even formed a regiment of blacks, and at I of Newport and 

afterwards at Point's Bridge, New York, this body of soldiers fought not 
only without reproach but with positive heroism. 

From the day when the Declaration of Independence asserted "That 
all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with 
certain inalienable rights ; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit 
of happiness," the peoples of the new, self-governing states could not but 
have seen that with them lay the responsibility. There is ample evidence 
that the fixing of the popular mind on liberty as an ideal bore results 
immediately in arousing anti-slavery sentiment. Such sentiment existed 
in the South as well as in the- North. Even North Carolina in 1786 de- 
clared the slave trade of "evil consequences ami highly impolitic." All the 
northern states abolished slavery, beginning with Vermont C i. au i 

o o Slavery Abol- 

in 1777, and ending with New Jersey in 1804. It should be ished in the 
added, however, that man}- of the northern slaves were not North 
freed, but sold to the South. The agricultural and commercial conditions 
in the North were such as to make slave labor less and less profitable, while 
in the South the social order oi things, agricultural conditions, and climate 
were gradually making it seemingly indispensable. 

When 1 istitutional debates began the trend of opinion seemed 

strongly against slavery. Many delegates thought that the evil would die 
out of itself. One thought the abolition of slavery already rapidly going 
on and soon to be completed. Another asserted that "slavery in time wiil 
not be a speck in our country." Mr. JeiYerson, on the other hand, in view 



428 THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLA VERY CONFLICT 

of the retention of slavery, declared roundly that he trembled for his coun- 
try when he remembered that God was just. And John Adams urged again 
and again that " every measure of prudence ought to be assumed for the 
eventual total extirpation of slavery from the United States." The obstinate 
states in the convention were South Carolina and Georgia. Their delegates 
declared that their states would absolutely refuse ratification to the Con- 
stitution unless slavery were recognized. The compromise sections finally 
agreed upon, avoided the use of the words slave and slavery, but clearly 
recognized the institution, and even gave the slave states the advantage of 
sending representatives to Congress on a basis of population determined by 
adding to the whole number of free persons " three-fifths of all other per- 
sons." The other persons referred to were, it is almost needless to add, 
negro slaves. 

The entire dealing with the question of slavery, at the framing of the 
Constitution, was a series of compromises. This is seen again in the failure 
definitely to forbid the slave trade from abroad. Some of the southern 
Compromises states had absolutely declined to listen to any proposition 
in the Con- which would restrict their freedom of action in this matter, 
stitution an j they were yielded to so far that Congress was forbidden 

to make the traffic unlawful before the year 1808. As that time approached, 
President Jefferson urged Congress to withdraw the country from all "fur- 
ther participation in those violations of human rights which have so long 
been continued on the unoffending inhabitants of Africa." Such an act 
was at once adopted, and by it heavy fines were imposed on all persons 
fitting out vessels for the slave trade and also upon all actually engaged in 
the trade, while vessels so employed became absolutely forfeited. Twelve 
years later another act was passed declaring the importation of slaves to be 
actual piracy. The latter law, however, was of little practical value, as it 
was not until 1861 that a conviction was obtained under it. Then, at last, 
when the whole slave question was about to be settled forever, a ship- 
master was convicted and hanged for piracy in New York for the crime of 
being enoacr e d in the slave trade. In despite of all laws, however, the trade 
in slaves was continued secretly, and the profits were so enormous that the 
risks did not prevent continual attempts to smuggle slaves into the territory 
of the United States. 

The first quarter of a century of our history, after the adoption of the 
Constitution, was marked by comparative quietude in regard to the future 
of slavery. In the North, as we have seen, the institution died a natural 
death, but there was no disposition evinced in the northern states to inter- 
fere with it in the South. The first great battle took place in 1820 over 



THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 429 

he so-called Missouri compromise. Now, for the first time, the country 
vas divid< d, 1 tionally and in a strict]}- political way, upon issues which in- 
volved the future- policy of the United States as to the extension or restric- 

ion of slave territory. State after state had been admitted 

, t r . , , 111 1 • r 1 1 The Slave Trade 

nto the Union, but there had been an alternation of slave and 

ree states, so that the political balance was not disturbed. Thus Ohio was 

jalanced by Lousiana, Indiana by Mississippi, Illinois by Alabama. Of the 

wenty-two states admitted before 1820, eleven were slave and eleven free 

tates. 

Immediately after the admission of Alabama, of course as a slave- 
lolding state. Maine and Missouri applied for admission. Tile admission 
)f Maine alone would have given a preponderance to the free states, and 
or this reason it was strongly contended by southern members that Mis- 
ouri should be admitted, as .1 slave state. But the sentiment of opposition 
o tlie extension of slavery was growing rapidly in the North, ami many 
nembers from that section opposed this proposition. They had believed 
hat the ordinance of 1 7S7, adopted simultaneously with the Constitution, 
md which forbade slavery to be established in the territory northwest of 
he Ohio, had settled this question definitely ; but this ordinance did not 
ipply to territory west of the Mississippi, so that the question really 
■emained open. A herce debate was waged through two sessions of Con- 
gress, and in the end it was agreed to permit the introduction of slavery 
nto Missouri, but to prohibit it forever in all future states 

virnj- north of the parallel of 36 decrees 30 minutes, the ^ h ° Mlssouri 

=> 1 ..,,'/ . Compromise 

iouthern boundary of Missouri. This was a compromise, 

latisfactory only because it seemed to dispose of the question of slavery 

n the territories once and forever. It was carried mainly by the great 

•ersonal influence of Henry Clay. It did, indeed, dispose of slavery as a 

natter of national legislative discussion for thirty years. 

But this interval was distinctively a period of popular agitation. Anti- 

.lavery sentiment of a mild type had long existed. The Quakers had, 

lince revolutionary times, held anti-slavery doctrines, had released their 

>wn servants from bondage, and had disfellowshiped members who refused 

concur in the sacrifice. The very last public act of Benjamin Franklin 

vas the framing- of a memorial to Congress in which he deprecated the 

:xistence of slavery in a free country. In New York the The Antl- 

Wanumission society had been founded in 1785, with John slavery Senti. 

ay and Alexander Hamilton, in turn, as its presidents. ment 

But this early writing and speaking were directed against slavery in a 

reneral way, and with no tone of aggression. Gradual emancipation and 



43Q THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLA VERY CONFLICT 

colonization were the only remedies suggested. It was with the founding 

of the Liberator by William Lloyd Garrison, in 1831, that the era of 
aggressive abolitionism began. Garrison and his society maintained that 
slavery was a sin against God and man ; that immediate emancipation was 
a duty ; that slave owners had no claim to compensation ; that all laws up- 
holding slavery were, before God, null and void. Garrison exclaimed : " I 
am in earnest. I will not equivocate — I will not excuse — I will not retreat 
a single inch. And I will be heard." His paper bore conspicuously the 
motto " No union with slaveholders." 

The Abolitionists were, in numbers, a feeble band ; as a party they 

lever acquired strength, nor were their tenets adopted strictly by any 
political party ; but they served the purpose of arousing the conscience of 
the nation. They were abused, vilified, mobbed, all but killed. Garrison 
was dragged through the streets of Boston with a rope around his neck — 
through those very streets which, in 1854, had their shops closed and hung 
in black, with flags Union down and a huge coffin suspended in mid-air, on 
the day when the fugitive slave, Anthony Burns, was marched through 
them on his way back to his master, under a guard of nearly two thousand 
men. Mr. Garrison's society soon took the stand that the union of states 
with slavery retained was " an agreement with hell and a covenant with 
death," and openly advocated secession of the non-slaveholding states. On 
this issue the Abolitionists split into two branches, and those who threw off 
Leading Oppo- Garrison's lead maintained that there was power enough 

nentsof under the Constitution to do away with slavery. To the 

fierce invective and constant agitation of Garrison were, in 
time, added the splendid oratory of Wendell Phillips, the economic argu- 
ments of Horace Greeley, the wise statesmanship of Charles Sumner, the 
fervid writings of Charming and Emerson, and the noble poetry of Whit- 
her. All these and others, in varied ways and from different points of view, 
joined in bringing the public opinion of the North to the view that the 
permanent existence of slavery was incompatible with that of a free 
republic. 

In the South, meanwhile, the institution was intrenching itself more and 
more firmly. The invention of the cotton gin and the beginning of the 
reign of cotton as king made the great plantation system a seeming com- 
mercial necessity. From the deprecatory and half apologetic utterances of 
early southern statesmen, we come to Mr. Calhoun's declaration that slavery 
" now preserves in quiet and security more than six and a half million human 
beings, and that it could not be destroyed without destroying the peace and 
prosperity of nearly half the states in the Union," The Abolitionists were 



THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 43; 

regarded in the South with the bitterest hatred. Attempts were even 

made to compel the northern states to silence the anti-slavery orators, to 

prohibit the circulation through the mail of anti-slavery speeches, and to 

refuse a hearing- in Congress to anti-slavery petitions. The s out hem 

intluence of the South was still dominant in the North. Though Hatred of 

the feeling against slavery spread, there co-existed with it 

the belief that an open quarrel with the South meant commercial ruin ; and 

the anti-slavery sentiment was also neutralized by the nobler feeling that the 

Union must be preserved at all hazards, and that there was no constitutional 

mode of interfering with the slave system. The annexation of Texas was 

a distinct gain to the slave power, and the Mexican war was undertaken, 

said John Quincy Adams, in order that "the slave-holding power in the 

government shall be secured and riveted." 

The actual condition of the negro over whom such a strife was being 

waged differed materially indifferent parts of the South, and, under masters 

of different character, in the same locality. It had its side of cruelty, 

oppression and atrocity ; it had also its side of kindness on the part of 

master and of devotion on the part of slave. Its dark side has been made 

familiar to readers by such books as " Uncle Tom's Cabin," Dickens' 

"American Notes," and Edmund Kirk's "Among the Pines;" 

... -ii 1 i 1 i i-i The Literature 

its brighter side has been charmingly depicted in the stories f Slavery 

of Thomas Nelson Page, Joel Chandler Harris, and Harry 
Edwards. On the great cotton plantations of Mississippi and Alabama the 
slave was often overtaxed and harshly treated ; in the domestic life of \ ir- 
ginia, on the other hand, he was as a rule most kindly used, and often a 
relation ol deep affection sprang up between him and his master. 

With this state of public feeling North and South, it was with increased 
bitterness and developed sectionalism that the subject of slavery in new 
states was again debated in the Congress of 1850. The Liberty party, 
which held that slavery might be abolished under the Constitution, had 
been merged in the Eree Soil party, whose cardinal principle was, "To 
secure free soil to a free people," and, while not interfering with slavery in 
existing states, to insist on its exclusion from territory so far free. The pro- 
posed admission of California was not affected by the Missouri Compromise. 
Its status as a future free or slave state was the turning point of the famous 
debates in the Senate of 1850, in which Webster, Calhoun, Douglas and 
Seward won fame — debates which have never been equaled in our history 
for eloquence and acerbity. It was in the course of these debates that Mr. 
Seward, while denying that the Constitution recognized property in man, 
struck out his famous dictum, " There is a higher law than the Conwtitu* 



432 THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 

tion. " The end reached was a compromise which allowed California to 

settle for itself the question of slavery, forbade the slave trade in the Dis- 

„ „ ... trict of Columbia, but enacted a strict fugitive slave law. To 

The Fugitive ....... , 

Slave Law and the Abolitionists this fugitive slave law, sustained in its most 

Underground extreme measures by the courts in the famous — or as they 
called it, infamous — Dred Scott case, was as fuel to fire. 
They defied it in every possible way. The " Underground Railway" was the 
'outcome of this defiance. By it a chain of secret stations was established, 
from one to the other of which the slave was guided at night until at last 
he reached the Canada border. The most used of these routes in the East 
was from Baltimore to New York, thence north through New England ; 
that most employed in the West was from Cincinnati to Detroit. It has 
been estimated that not fewer than thirty thousand slaves were thus assisted 
to freedom. 

Soon the struggle was changed to another part of the western territory, 
which was now growing so rapidly as to demand the formation of new states. 
The Kansas-Nebraska Bill introduced by Douglas was in effect the repeal 
of the Missouri Compromise, in that it left the question as to whether slavery 
should be carried into the new territories to the decision of the settlers 
themselves. As a consequence immigration was directed by both the anti- 
slavery and the pro-slavery parties to Kansas, each determined on obtain- 
ing a majority enabling it to control the proposed State Constitution. Then 
began a series of acts of violence which almost amounted to civil war. 
" Bleeding Kansas " became a phrase in almost every one's mouth. Border 
ruffians swaggered at the polls and attempted to drive out the 

' n assisted emigrants sent to Kansas by the Abolition societies. 
Kansas & J 

The result of the election of the Legislature on its face made 
Kansas a slave state, but a great part of the people refused to accept this 
result ; and a convention was held at Topeka which resolved that Kansas 
should be free even if the laws formed by the Legislature should have to be 
"resisted to a bloody issue." 

Prominent among the armed supporters of free state ideas in Kansas 
'was Captain John Brown, a man whose watchword was at all times action. 
"Talk," he said, "is a national institution; but it does no good for the 
John Brown at slave." He believed that slavery could only be coped with by 
Harper's armed force. His theory was that the way to make free men 

erry of slaves was for the slaves themselves to resist any attempt 

to coerce them by their masters. He was undoubtedly a fanatic in that he 
did not stop to measure probabilities or to take account of the written law. 
His attempt at Harper's Ferry was without reasonable hope, and as 



THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 433 

he intended beginning of a great military movement was a ridiculous 
iasco. To attempt to make war upon the United States with twenty men 
vas utter madness, and if the hoped for rising- oi the slaves had taken place 
night have yielded horrible results. The execution of John Brown, that 
ollowed, was the logical consequence of his hopeless effort. 

But there was that about the man which none could call ridiculous. Rash 
ind unreasoning as his action seemed, he was still, even by his enemies, 
ecognized as a man oi unswerving conscience, of high ideals, of deep belief 
n the brotherhood of mankind. His offense against law and peace was 
hei-rfully paid for by his death and that of others near and dear to him. 
\lmost no one at that day could be found to applaud his plot, but the 
ncident had an effect on the minds of the people altogether out of propor- 
ion to its intrinsic character. More and more as time went on he became 
ecognized as a martyr in the cause of human liberty. 

Events of vast importance to the future of the negro in America now 
lurried fast upon each other's footsteps : the final settlement of the Kansas 
lispute by its becoming a tree state ; the formation and rapid growth of the 
Republican party ; the division of the Democratic party into northern and 
outhern factions; the election of Abraham Lincoln ; the secession of South 
Carolina, and, finally, the greatest civil war the world has known. Though 
hat war would never have been waged were it not for the negro, and though 
lis fate was inevitably involved in its result, it must be remembered that it 
vas not undertaken on his account. Before the struggle began Mr. Lincoln 
aid : " If there be those who would not save the Union unless they could 
it the same time save slavery, I do not agree with them. If there be those 
vho would not save the bunion unless they could at the same time destroy 
ilavery, I do not agree with them. My paramount object is to save the 
Jnion, and not either to destroy or to save slavery." And the northern 
>ress emphasized over and over again the fact that this was ''a white man's 
var." But the logic of events is inexorable. It seems amazing now- that 
Jnion generals should have been puzzled as to the question whether they 
>ught in duty to return runaway slaves to their masters. General Butler 
iettled the controversy by one happy phrase when he called the fugitives 
'contraband of war." Soon it was deemed right to use these 
:ontrabands, to employ the new-coined word, as the South >e ~^ " 

vas using the negroes still in bondage, to aid in the non-fight- 
ng work of the army — on fortification, team-driving, cooking, and so on. 
From this it was but a step, though a step not taken without much per- 
turbation, to employ them as soldiers. At Yicksburg, at Fort Pillow, and 
n many another battle, the negro showed beyond dispute that he could 



434 THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 

ght for his liberty. No fiercer or braver charge was made in the war than 
chat upon the parapet of Fort Wagner by Colonel Shaw's gallant colored 
regiment, the Massachusetts Fifty-fourth. 

In a thousand ways the negro figures in the history of the war. In its 
literature he everywhere stands out picturesquely. He sought the flag with 
the greatest avidity for freedom ; flocking in crowds, old men and young, 
Behavior of women and children, sometimes with quaint odds and ends of 

Slaves During personal belongings, often empty-handed, always enthusiastic 
e ivi ar an j hopeful, almost always densely ignorant of the meaning 
of freedom and of self-support. But while the negro showed this avidity 
for liberty, his conduct toward his old masters was often generous, and 
almost never did he seize the opportunity to inflict vengeance for his pasf 
wrongs. The eloquent southern orator and writer, Henry W. Grady, said . 
" History has no parallel to the faith kept by the negro in the South during 
the war. Often five hundred negroes to a single white man, and yet 
through these dusky throngs the women and children walked in safety and 
the unprotected homes rested in peace. . . A thousand torches would 
have disbanded every southern army, but not one was lighted." 

It was with conditions, and only after great hesitation, that the final 
step of emancipating the slaves was taken by President Lincoln in Septem- 
ber, 1862. The proclamation was distinctly a war measure, but its recep- 
tion by the North and by the foreign powers and its immediate effect upon 
the contest were such that its expediency was at once recognized. There- 
after there was possible no question as to the personal freedom of the negro 
The Emancipa- m tne United States of America. With the Confederacy, 

tion Proclama- slavery went clown once and forever. In the so-called recon- 
struction period which followed, the negro suffered almost as 
much from the over-zeal of his political friends as from the prejudice of his 
old masters. A negro writer, who is a historian of his race, has declared 
that the government gave the negro the statute book when he should have 
had the spelling book ; that it placed him in the legislature when he ought 
to have been in the school house, and that, so to speak, " the heels were put 
where the brains ought to have been." 

A quarter of a century and more has passed since that turbulent 
period began, and if the negro has become less prominent as a political 
factor, all the more for that reason has he been advancing steadily though 
slowly in the requisites of citizenship. He has learned that he must, by 
force of circumstances, turn his attention, for the time at least, rather to 
educational, industrial and material progress than to political ambition. 
And the record of his advance on these lines is promising and hopeful. In 



THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 455 

Mississippi alone, for instance, the negroes own one-fifth of the entire pro- 
perty in the state. In all, the negroes of the South to-day possess two 
hundred and fifty million dollars' worth of property. Everywhere through- 
out the South white men and negroes may be found working together. 

The promise of the negro race to-day is not so much in the develop- 
ment i f men of exceptional talent, such as Frederick Douglas or Senator 
Bruce, as in the general spread of intelligence and knowledge. p rogress f t h e 
The southern states have very generally given the negro Negroes of 
equal educational opportunities with the whites, while the e out 

eagerness of the race to learn is shown in the recently ascertained fact that 
while the colored population has increased only twenty-seven per cent, the 
enrollment in the colored schools has increased one hundred and thirty- 
seven percent. Fifty industrial schools are crowded by the colored youth 
of the South. Institutions of higher education, like the Atlanta Univer- 
sity, the Hampton Institute of Virginia, and Tuskegee College are doing 
admirable work in turning out hundreds of negroes fitted to educate their 
own race. Honors and scholarships have been taken by colored young men 
at Harvard, at Cornell, at Phillips Academy and at other northern schools 
and colleges of the highest rank. The fact that a young negro, Mr. Morgan, 
was, in 1890, elected by his classmates at Harvard as the class orator has a 

a special significance. Yet there is greater significance, as a _. .. ,_ 
1 & & . hducational De- 

newspaper writes, in the fact that the equatorial telescope velopment of 

now used bv the Lawrence University oi Wisconsin was made the Negro 

Race 

entirely by colored pupils in the School of Mechanical Arts of 
Nashville, I'enn. In other words, the Afro-American is finding his place as 
an intelligent worker, a property owner, and an independent citizen, rather 
than as an agitator, a politician or a Ivocate. In religion, supersti- 

tion and effusive sentiment are giving way to stricter morality. In educa- 
tional matters, ambition for the high-sounding and the abstract is giving 
place to practical and industrial acquirements. It will be many years 
before the character of the negro, for centuries dwarfed and distorted by 
oppression and ignorance, reaches its normal growth, but that the race 
is at last upon tin- right path, and is being guided by the true principles 
cannot be doubted. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Abraham Lincoln and the Work of Emancipation. 

AMONG the men who have filled the office of President of the United 
States two stand pre-eminent, George Washington and Abraham 
Lincoln, both of them men not for the admiration of a century but 
of the ages, heroes of history whose names will live as the chief figures 
among; the makers of our nation. To the hand of Washington it owed its 
freedom, to that of Lincoln its preservation, and the name of 

as mg on ^ e preserver will occupy a niche in the temple of fame next 
and Lincoln l J r 

to that of the founder. But our feeling for Lincoln is 

different from that with which we regard the " Father of his Country." 
While we venerate the one, we love the other. Washington was a stately 
figure, too dignified for near approach. He commanded respect, admira- 
tion and loyalty ; but in addition to these Lincoln commands our affection, 
a feeling as for one very near and dear to us. 

The fame of Lincoln is increasing as the inner history of the great 
Strug-ode for the life of the nation becomes known. For almost two decades 
after that struggle had settled the permanence o'f our government, our 
vision was obscured by the near view of the pygmy giants who "strutted 
their brief hour upon the stage ;" our ears were filled with the loud claims 
of those who would magnify their own little part, and, knowing the facts 
concerning some one fraction of the contest, assumed from that knowledge 
to proclaim the principles which should have governed the whole. Time is 
dissipating the mist, and we are coming better to know the 
r ft.. ^" i . great man who had no pride of opinion, who was willing to 

and nis Critics ° i r » 

let Seward or Sumner or McClellan or any one imagine him- 
self to be the guiding spirit of the government, if he were willing to give 
that government the best service of which he was capable. We see more 
clearly the real greatness of the leader who was too slow for one great sec- 
tion of his people, and too fast for another, too conservative for those, too 
radical for these ; who refused to make the contest merely a war for the 
negro, yet who saw the end from the beginning, and led, not a section 
of his people, but the whole people, away from the Egyptian plagues of 
slavery and disunion, and brought them, united in sentiment and feeling, 
436 



LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 437 

to the borders of the promised land. We are coming to appreciate that 
the " Father Abraham " who in thai Red Sea passage of fraternal strife was 
ready to listen to every tale of sorrow, and who wanted it said that he 
"always plucked a thistle and planted a flower when he thought a flower 
would grow," was not only in this sense the father of his 
people : but that he was a truly great statesman, who, within ... , 

' 1 J *» of Lincoln 

the limits of human knowledge and human strength, guided 

tin affairs of state with a wisdom, a patience, a courage which belittle aii 
praise, and make him seem indeed a man divinely raised up, not only to set 
the captive free, but in order that "government of the people, by the 
people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth." 

It h not our purpose to tell the story of Lincoln's boyhood his days 
of penury in the miserable frontier cabins of his father in Kentucky and 
Indiana, his struggles to obtain an education, his pitiful necessity of writing 
his school exercises with charcoal on the hack of a wooden shovel, his etlorts 
to make a livelihood when he had become a tall and ungainly, but strong 
and vigorous, youth, his work at farming, rail-splitting, clerking, boating, 
and in other occupations. A journey on a flat-boat to New Lincoln's First 
Orleans gave him his first acquaintance with the institution of Experience 
slavery, with which he: was thereafter to have so much to do. 
Mere he witnessed a slave auction. The scene was one that made a deep 
and abiding impression on his sympathetic mind, and he is said to have 
declared to his companion, "If 1 ever get a chance to hit that institution, 
ni liit it hard." Whether this is legend or fact, it is certain that he did get 
a chance to hit it, and did "hit it hard." 

Difficult as it was to obtain an education on the rude frontier and in 
tile extreme poverty in which Lincoln was reared, he succeeded by persistent 
reading- and study in making himself the one man of learning among his 
farming fellows, and one who was not long content with the occupations of 
rail-splitting, flat-boating, or even that of keeping country store, which he 
tried without success. He was too devoted to his books to attend very care- 
fully to his business, which left him seriously in debt, and he soon chose the 
law as his vocation, supporting himself meanwhile by serving as land sur- 
veyor in the neighboring district. 

Lincoln's political career began in 1834, when his neighbors, who admired 
him for his learning and ability, elected him to represent them in the Illinois 
legislature. His knowledge was only one of the elements of his popularity. 
He had acquired a reputation as a teller of quaint and humorous stories ; 
he was a champion wrestler, and could light well if forced to ; and he was 
beginning to make his mark as a ready and able orator. In the legislature 



438 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 

he became prominent enough to gain twice the nomination of his party for 

speaker. His principal service there was to advocate a system of public 

improvements, whose chief result was to plunge Illinois deeply 

in the Illinois j n j^t. A significant act of his at this early day in his careei 
Legislature .... . . . 

was to join with a single colleague m a written protest 

against the passage of resolutions in favor of slavery. The signers 
based their action on their belief that "the institution of slavery is founded 
on both injustice and bad policy." It needed no little moral courage to 
make such a protest in 1837 in a community largely of southern origin, but 
moral courage was a possession of which Lincoln had an abundant store. 

In the meantime Lincoln had been admitted to the bar, and in 1837 he 
removed to Springfield, where he formed a partnership with an attorney of 
established reputation. He became a successful lawyer, not so much by his 
knowledge of law, for this was never great, as by his ability as an advocate, 
and by reason of his sterling integrity. He would not be a party to misrepre- 
sentation, and more than once refused to take cases which 

Lincoln as a involved such a result. He even was known to abandon a case 

Lawyer , , , 

which brought him unexpectedly into this attitude, making 

in his first case before the United States Circuit Court the unusual state- 
ment that he had not been able to find any authorities supporting his side 
of the case, but had found several favoring the opposite, which he proceeded 
to quote. 

The very appearance ot such an attorney in any case must have gone 
far to win the jury ; and, when deeply stirred, the power of his oratory, and 
the invincible logic of his argument, made him a most formidable opponent. 
"Yes," he was overheard to say to a would-be client, "we can doubtless 
gain your case for you ; we can set a whole neighborhood at loggerheads ; 
we can distress a widowed mother and her six fatherless children, and 
thereby get for you the six hundred dollars to which you seem to have a 
legal claim, but which rightfully belongs, it appears to me, as much to the 
woman and her children as it does to you. You must remember that 
some things legally right are not morally right. We shall not take your 
case, but will give you a little advice for which we will charge you nothing. 
You seem to be a sprightly, energetic man ; we would advise you to try 
your hand at making six hundred dollars in some other way." 
In the United ^ n i S46 he accepted a nomination to Congress and was 

states Con- triumphantly elected, being the only Whig among the seven 
representatives from his state. As a member of the House 
his voice was always given on the side of human freedom, he voting in 
favor of considering the petitions for the abolition of slavery and supporting 



LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATE 439 

the doctrines of the Wilmot proviso, which opposed the extension of 
slavery to the territory acquired from Mexico. 

As yet Lincoln had not made a strikii ire as a legislator. He was 

admired by those about him for his sterling honesty and integrity, but his 

name: was hardly known in the country at large, and there was no indication 
that he would ever occupy a prominent position in the politics oi the nation. 
li was the threatened repeal of the Missouri Compromise, in 1854, an act 
which would open the western territory to the admission of slavery, that 
first fairly wakened him up and laid the foundation of his remarkable career. 
The dangerous question which Henry Clay had set aside for years, but 
which was now brought forward again, absorbed his attention, and he grew 
constantly more bold and powerful in his denunciation of the encroach- 
ments of the slave power. He became, therefore, the natural champion of 
his party in the campaigns in which Senator Douglas undertook to defend 
before the people of his state his advocacy of "squatter sovereignty," or 
the right of the people of each territory to decide whether it should be ad- 
mitted as a slave or a free state, and of the Kansas-Nebraska bill, by 
which the "Missouri Compromise" was repealed. 

The first great battle between these two giants of debate took pla 
the Sta'te Fair at Springfield, in October, 1854. Douglas made a great 
speech to an unprecedented concourse of people, and was the The Great Lin- 
lion of the hour. The next day Lincoln replied, and his coin and u<>u- 
effort was such as to surprise both his friends and his oppo- 
nents. It was probably the first occasion in which he reached his full 
power. In the words of a friendly editor: "The Nebraska bill was 
[Shivered, and like a tree of the forest was torn and rent asunder by the hot 
bolts of truth. ... At the conclusion of this speech ever)' man and 
child felt that it was unanswerable." 

But it was the campaign of 1S58 that made Lincoln famous. In this 
contest he Inst fully displayed his powers as an orator and logician, and won 
the reputation that made him President. Douglas, his opponent, was im- 
mensely popular in the West. His advocacy of territorial expansion 
appealed to tiie patriotism of the young and ardent; his doctrine of popular 
sovereignty was well calculated to mislead shallow thinkers; and his power 
in debate was so great that he became widely known as the " Little Giant." 
But he found a worthy champion of the opposite in Abraham Lincoln, who 
riddled and ventilated many of his specious arguments, and s .1 in 

inducing him to make a statement that proved fatal to his hopes of the 
Presidency. 



e 



440 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 

When Lincoln proposed to press upon his opponent the question 
whether there were lawful means by which slavery could be excluded from 
a territory before its admission as a state, his friends suggested that I 

Douglas would reply that slavery could not exist unless it was 
Douglas's Fatal jggjj-gj by t h e people, and unless protected by territorial 

legislation, and that this answer would be sufficiently satis- 
factory to insure his re-election. But Lincoln replied, " I am after larger j 
game. If Douglas so answers, he can never be President, and the battle of] 
i860 is worth a hundred of this." Both predictions were verified. Th 
people of the South might have forgiven Douglas his opposition to the 
Lecompton Constitution of Kansas, but they could not forgive the promulga- 
tion of a doctrine which, in spite of the Dred Scott decision (a Supreme 
Court decision to the effect that a master had the right to take his slave 
into any state and hold him there as "property"), would keep slavery out 
of a territory ; and so, although Douglas was elected and Lincoln defeated, 
the Democracy was divided, and it was impossible for Douglas to command 
southern votes for the presidency. 

The campaign had been opened with a speech by Lincoln which startled 
the country by its boldness and its power. It was delivered at the Repub- 
lican convention which nominated him for Senator, and had been pre- 
viously submitted to his confidential advisers. They strenuously opposed 
the introduction of its opening sentences. He was warned that they would 
be fatal to his election, and, in the existing state of public feeling, might 

permanently destroy his political prospects. Lincoln could 

Lincoln Takes t ^ move d. " It is true" said he, " and I will deliver it as 

His Stand ' 

written. I would rather be defeated with these expressions 

in my speech held up and discussed before the people than be victorious 
without them." The paragraph gave to the country a statement of the 
problem as terse and vigorous and even more complete than Seward's " irre- 
pressible conflict," and as startling as Sumner's proposition that "freedom 
was national, slavery sectional." " A house divided against itself," said 
Lincoln, " cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure per- 
manently half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dis- 
solved ; I do not expect the house to fall ; but I expect it will cease to be 
divided. It will become all one thing or all the other. Either the opponents 
of slavery will arrest the farther spread of it, and place it where the public 
mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate extinction, or 
its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the 
states, — old as well as new, North as well as South." 



LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 441 

Never had the issues of a political campaign seemed more momentous; 

r was one more ably contested. The triumph of the doctrine of 
"popular sovereignty," in the Kansas-Nebraska bill, had opened the terri- 
tories to slavery, while it professed to leave the question to be decided by 
the people. To the question whether the people of a territory could 
exclude slavery Douglas had answered, "That is a question for the courts 
to decide," but the Dred Scott decision, practically holding 
that the Federal Constitution guaranteed the right to hold The " cha " 1 P |0 j; 

& & of l-reedom 

slaves in the territories, seemed to make the pro-slavery cause 

triumphant. The course of Douglas regarding the Lecompton Constitu- 
tion, however, had made it possible for his friends to describe him as "the 
true champion of freedom," while Lincoln continually exposed, with merci- 
less force, the illogical position of his adversary, and his complete lack of 
jolitical morality. 

Douglas claimed that the doctrine of popular sovereignty "originated 
vhen God made man and placed good and evil before him, allowing him to 
thoose upon his own responsibility." But Lincoln declared with great 
solemnity : " No; God did not pla< i and evil before man, telling him 

:o take his choice. On the contrary, God did tell him that there was one 
tree of the fruit of which he should not eat. upon pain of death." The 
question was to him one of right, a high question of morality, and only 
lpon such a question could he ever be fully roused. "Slavery is wrong," 
,vas the keynote of his speeches. But he did not take the position of the 
ibolitionists. He even admitted that the South was entitled, under the 
Constitution, to a national fugitive slave law, though his soul revolted at 
the law which was then in force. His position, as already cited, was that 
jf the Republican party. He would limit the extension of Lj nco | n - s views 
slavery, and place it in such a position as would insure its on the slavery 
jltimate extinction. It was a moderate course, viewed from yues lor 
this distance of time, but in the face of a dominant, arrogant, irascible pro- 
slavery sentiment it seemed radical in the extreme, calculated, indeed, to 
:ulfill a threat he had made to the governor of the state. He had been 
ittempting to secure the release of a young negro from Springfield who was 
ivrongfully detained in New Orleans, and who was in danger of being sold 
:or prison expenses. Moved to the depths of his being by the refusal of 
the official to interfere, Lincoln exclaimed : " By God, governor, I'll make 
the -round of this country too hot for the foot of a slave' 

Douglas was re-elected. Lincoln had hardly anticipated a different 
result, and he had nothing of the feeling of defeat. On the contrarv, he 
felt that the corner-stone of victory had been laid. He had said of his 
35 



442 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 

opening speech : "If I had to draw a pen across my record, and erase my 
whole life from sight, and I had one poor gift or choice left as to what I 
should choose to save from the wreck, I should choose that speech, and 
leave it to the world unerased." 

The oreat debate had made Lincoln famous. In Illinois his name was 
a household word. His stand for the liberty of the slave was on the lips of 
the advocates of human freedom through all the country. Deep and wide- 
The Cooper spread interest was felt in the East for this prairie orator, and 

Institute when, in i860, he appeared by invitation to deliver an address 

Speech j n t j le c 00 p er Institute, of New York, he was welcomed by 

an audience of the mental calibre of those who of old gathered to hear 
Clay and Webster speak. 

It was a deeply surprised audience. They expected to be treated to 
something of the freshness, but much of the shallowness, of the frontier 
region, and listened with astonishment and admiration to the dignified, clear, 
and luminous oration of the prairie statesman. It is said that those who 
afterwards published the speech as a campaign document were three weeks 
in verifying its historical and other statements, so deep and abundant was 
the learning it displayed. 

He had taken the East by storm. He was invited to speak in many 

places in New England, and everywhere met with the most flattering 

reception, which surprised almost as much as it delighted hii-i. It astonished 

him to hear that the Professor of Rhetoric of Yale College took notes of 

his speech and lectured upon them to his class, and followed him to Meriden 

the next evening to hear him again for the same purpose. An intelligent 

hearer spoke to him of the remarkable " clearness of your 

\T° ur ., ,n . statements, the unanswerable style of your reasoning, and 

New England . \ J & 

especially your illustrations, which are romance and pathos, 
fun and logic, all welded together." Perhaps his style could not be better 
described. He himself said that it used to anger him, when a child, to hear 
statements which he could not understand, and he was thus led to form the 
habit of turning over a thought until it was in language any boy could 
comprehend. 

It is not necessary to tell in detail what followed. Lincoln had attained 
the high eminence of being considered as a suitable candidate for President, 
and when the Republican Convention of i860 met in Chicago, he found him- 
self looked upon as the man for the West. Seward was a prominent candi- 
date, but his candidacy sank before that of the choice of the westerners, who 
were roused to a frenzy of enthusiasm when some of the rails which Lincoln 
had split were borne into the hall. He was nominated on the third ballot. 



LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 



443 



amid the wildest acclamations. In the campaign that followed Lincoln and 
Hamlin were the triumphant candidates, winning their scats by a majority 
of fifty-seven in the electoral college. The poor rail-splitter of Illinois had 
lifted himself, by pure force of genius, to be President of the The n &iim 
United States of America. From that time forward the splitter .Made 
life of Abraham Lincoln is the history of the great Civil Presld, -" nt 
War. His task was such as few men had ever faced before. The mighty 
republic of the West, the most promising experiment in self-government 
by the people that the world had ever known, seemed about to end in failure. 
No man did more to save it from destruction and start it on its future 
:ourse of greatness and renown than this western prodigy of genius and 
rectitude. 

Mr. Lincoln called to his cabinet the ablest men of his party, two of 
whom, Seward and Chase, had been his competitors for the nomination, and 
:he new administration devoted itsell to the work of saving the Union. 
Every means was tried to prevent the secession of the border states, and 
:he President delayed until Fort Sumter had been fired upon before he 

hi active measures for the suppression of the rebellion and called for 
seventy-five thousand volunteers. 

The gre.tt question, from the start, was the treatment of the negro. 
rhe advanced anti-slavery men demanded decisive action, and could not 
jnderstand that success depended absolutely upon the administration com- 
panding the support of the whole people. And so Mr. Lincoln incurred 
she displeasure and lost the confidence of some of those who had been his 
leartiest support* rs, by keeping the negro in the background and making 
:he preservation of the Union the great end for which he strove. He 
-epeatedly declared that, if he could do so, he would preserve the Union 
vitli slavery, and further said, "I could not feel that, to the The (ireat 
aest of my ability, 1 had even tried to preserve the Constitu- Question of 
:ion, if, to save slavery or for any minor matter, 1 should 
aermit the wreck of government, country and Constitution, all together." 
Dnly when it became evident that the North was in accord with him in his 
detestation of slavery did the President venture to strike the blow which 
was to bring that perilous system to an end. 

In the dark days of 1862, when the reverses of the Union arms cast a 
doom over the North, and European governments were seriously consider- 
ing the proprieiv of recognizing the Confederacy, it seemed to Mr. Lincoln 
:hat the time had come, that the North was prepared to support a radical 
Tieasure, and that emancipation would not only weaken the South at home, 
iut would make it impossible for any European government to take the 



444 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 

attitude toward slavery which would be involved in recognizing the Con- 
federacy. Action was delayed until a favorable moment, and after the 
victory of Antietam the President called his cabinet together and announced 
The Proclama- tnat ne was aDOut to issue the Proclamation of Emancipation. 

tion of Eman- It was a solemn moment. The President had made a vow — - 
" I promised my God," were his words — that if the tide of 
invasion should be mercifully arrested, he would set the negro free. The 
nnal proclamation, issued three months later, fitly closes with an appeal: 
which indicates the devout spirit in which the deed was done : " And upon 
this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Consti- 
tution upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of man- 
kind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God." 

The question of slavery was only one of the many with which Lincoln 
had to contend. Questions of foreign policy, of finance, of the conduct of 
the war, of a dozen different kinds pressed upon him for solution, while 
dissensions in his cabinet and incompetence in the army made his task any- 
thing but a pleasant one. His personal advisers, Stanton, Seward, Chase, 
and others, were strong and able men, but above them was a stronger man, 
who held firmly in his own hands the reins of government, and would not; 
yield them to any of his ambitious subordinates, nor change his fixed policy 
at the bidding of irresponsible critics and fault-finders. 

Upon what Lincoln called " the plain people" — the mass of his country- 
men — he could always depend, because he, more than any other political 
Lincoln and leader in our history, understood them. Sumner, matchless 

the " Plain advocate of liberty as he was, distrusted the President, and 
was desirous of getting the power out of his hands into 
stronger and safer ones. But suddenly the great Massachusetts senator 
awoke to the fact that he could not command the support of his own con- 
stituency, and found it necessary to issue an interview declaring himself not 
an opponent, but a supporter, of Lincoln. The President's grasp of ques- 
tions of state policy was, indeed, stronger than that of any of his advisers. 
The important dispatch to our minister in England, in May, 1861, outlining 
the course to be pursued towards that power, has been published in its 
original draft, showing the work of the Secretary of State and President 

Lincoln's alterations. Of this publication the editor of the 
An Able , r , . A/r ... ., 

Diplomatist North American Review says: " ivlany military men, who nave 

had access to Lincoln's papers, have classed him as the best 
general of the war. This paper will go far toward establishing his reputa- 
tion as its ablest diplomatist." It would be impossible for any intelligent! 
person to study the paper thus published, the omissions, the alterations, 





ABRAH \\! LIN( OLN (i 



ULYSSES MM I'^i IN GRAN I 




i r EDMUND LEI ci 7-1:7 



WILLI AM T >Hl KM \\ 



LINi. '( '/ X AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 447 

the substitutions, without acknowledging that they were the work of 
1 master mind, and that the raw backwoodsman, not three months in office, 
was the peer of any statesman with whom he might find it necessary to 
:ope. He was entirely willing to grant to his ries and to his generals 

the greatest liberty of action ; he was ready to listen to any one, and to 
accept advice even from hostile critics; and Ids readiness made them think, 
sometimes, that he had little mental power of his own, and brought upon 
him the charge of weakness ; but, as the facts have become more fully 
known, it has grown more and more evident that he was not only the "1 
general" and the "ablest diplomatist," but the greatest man among all the 
great men whom that era of trial brought to the rescue of our country. 

And when the end came, after four years of desperate conflict; when 
Lee had surrendered and the work of saving the Union seemed complete ; 

when the liberator was made, by the assassin's hand, the martyr 

di • , , , 1 , . 1 The Assasina- 

lat great cause which lie had earned to its glorious tormina- of Lincoln 

tion, a depth of pathos was added to our memory of America's 

noblest man, insuring him a fame that was worth dying for, that crown of 

human sympathy which lends glory to martyrdom. 

The story of the end need hardly be told. On the evening of April 
14, 1S65, Abraham Lincoln was shot by a half-crazed sympathizer with the 
South, John Wilkes Booth. The President hail gone, by special imitation, 
to witness a play at Ford's Theatre, and the assassin had no difficulty in 
gaining entrance to the box, committing the dreadful d(t>^\, and leaping to 
the stage to make his escape. The story of his pursuit and death while 

ling arrest is familiar to us all. Mr. Lincoln lingered till the morning, 
when the little group of friends and relatives, with members of tin cabinet, 
stood with breaking hearts about the death-bed. 

Sorrow more deep and universal cannot be imagined than envelo 
our land on that 15th of April. Throughout the country every household 
felt the loss as of one of themselves. The honored remains lay for a few 
days iii state at Washington, and then began the funeral journey, taking in 
backward course almost the route which had been followed 

. , , , , , , 1 i> ■ 1 The Grief of the 

four years before, when the newly-elected President wont to p eop i e 

assume his burdens "( his high office. Such a pilgrimage of 

sorrow had never been witnessed by our people. It was followed by the 

sympathy of the whole world until the loved remains were laid in the tomb 

at Springfield, Illinois. Over the door of the state house, in the city of his 

home, where his old neighbors took their last farewell, were these lines : 

" He left us borne up by our prayers ; 
He returns embalmed in our tears " 



448 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 

Abraham Lincoln was in every way a remarkable man. Towering 
above his fellows, six feet four inches in height, his giant figure, with its 
inclination to stoop, of itself attracted attention. While possessed of 
gigantic strength, he was diffident and modest in the extreme. The expres- 
sion of his face was sad, and that sadness deepened as the war dragged on 
and causes for national depression increased. Melancholy was hereditary 
a Man of with him, and it is doubtful if his mind was ever free from a 

Melancholy degree of mental dejection. On certain occasions he was 
almost overwhelmed by it. Yet with all this he was one of 
the readiest inventors and gatherers of amusing- stories, which were inimit- 
able as told by him. He opened the cabinet meeting in which he announced 
his purpose to issue the Emancipation Proclamation by reading to his dig- 
nified associates a chapter from Artemus Ward. His jokes were usually 
for a purpose. He settled more than one weighty question by the wit of a 
homely "yarn," that told better than hours of argument would have done. 
A signal illustration of his method is the telling aphorism by which he once 
settled the question of changing the generals in command : "It is a bad 
plan to swap horses crossing a stream." 

His gift of expression was only equaled by the clearness and firmness 
of his grasp upon the truths which he desired to convey ; and the beauty of 
his words, upon many occasions, is only matched by the goodness and purity 
of the soul from which they sprung. His Gettysburg speech will be 
remembered as long as the story of the battle for freedom shall be told ; 
and of his second inaugural it has been said: "This was like a sacred 
poem. No American President had ever spoken words like these to the 
American people. America never had a President who found such words 
in the depth of his heart." The following were its closing words, and with 
them we may fitly close this imperfect sketch : 

" Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of 
war may speedily pass away. Yet if God wills that it continue until all 
The Great tne wealth piled by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years 

Gettysburg of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood 
drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the 
sword ; as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, ' The 
judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.' With malice 
toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives 
us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in ; to bind up 
the nation's wounds ; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and 
for his widow and his orphan ; to do all which may achieve and cherish a 
just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations." 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Grant and Lee and the Civil War. 

IN several of the preceding- chapters the causes which led the United 
States into its great fratricidal war have been given. In the present 

we propose to deal with the war itself; not to describe it in detail, — 
:hat belongs to general history, — but to speak of its great soldiers and its 
eading events, which form the chosen topics of this work. Of the states- 
pen brought into prominence by the war, President Lincoln was the chief, 
md we have given an account of his life. Of its famous The Great 
ioldiers two stand pre-eminent, Ulysses S. Grant and Robert Leaders of the 
E. Lee, and around the careers of these two men the whole Clvl ar 
itory of the war revolves. They did not stand alone; there were others 
vho played leading parts, — Thomas, Sherman, Sheridan, McClellan and 
>thers, on the Union side ; Jackson, Johnston and others on the Con- 
ederate, — but this is not a work of biographical sketches, and our main 
ittention must be centred upon the two leading figures in the war, the 
night)' opponents who linked arms in the desperate struggle from the 
Wilderness to Appomattox. 

Grant was a modest and retiring man. While others were strenuously 
mshing their claims to command, he, an experienced soldier of the Mexican 
var, held back and was thrust aside by the crowd of enterprising incompe- 
ents, doing anything that was offered him, the coming Napoleon of the war 
)erforming services suitable for a drill sergeant. But gradually men of experi- 
ence in war began to find their appropriate places, and in August, 1861, Grant 

vas made brigadier-general and given command of a district 

... & , & ._. . ° ,• , u Orant Takes 

ncluding southeast Missouri and western Kentucky. tie command 

;oon set out to meet the Confederates, and found them at 

Uelmont, Missouri, where he drove them back in a hard four hours' fight. 

["hen they were reinforced and advanced in such strength that Grant and 

lis men were in danger of being cut off from the boats in which they had 

:ome. 

" We are surrounded," cried the men, in some alarm. 

" Well, then," said Grant, " we must cut our way out, as we cut our 
vay in," and they did. It was the only retreat in Grant's career. 

449 



450 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 

Meanwhile, in the East, the battle of Bull Run had been fought, to the 
dismay of the Union side, the triumph of the Confederate. There fol- 
lowed an autumn and winter of weary waiting, which severely tried the 
patience of North and South alike, both sides being eager for something to 
be done. Early in the following year something was done, but not in the 
region where the people looked for it. While attention was chiefly concen- 
trated upon the Potomac, where McClellan was organizing and drilling that 
splendid army which another and a greater commander was to lead to final 
victory ; while the only response to the people's urgent call, " On to Rich- 
mond!" was the daily report, "All quiet on the Potomac;" 
All Quiet on the ~ , , . l . n ... , . 

Potomac Lxrant, an obscure and almost unknown soldier, was pushing 

forward against Forts Henry and Donelson, eleven miles 
apart, on the Tennessee and the Cumberland, near where these rivers cross 
the line dividing Kentucky and Tennessee. 

He had obtained from his commander, Halleck, a reluctant consent to 
his plan for attacking these important posts with a land force, co-operating at 
the same time with a fleet of gunboats under Commodore Foote. It was 
the month of February and bitterly cold. Amid sleet and snow the men 
pushed along the roads, arriving at Fort Henry just after it had been captured, 
as the result of a severe bombardment, by the gunboats. Grant immediately 
turned his attention to Fort Donelson, which had been reinforced by a large 
part of the garrison that had escaped from Fort Henry. It was held by 
Generals Buckner, Floyd and Pillow with 20,000 men. For three days a fierce 
attack was kept up. Buckner, who had been at West Point with Grant, 
and doubtless knew that he was, as his wife designated him, " a very 
obstinate man," sent on the morning of the fourth day, under a flag of truce, 
to ask what terms of surrender would be granted. In reply Grant sent 
The Surrender tnat brief, stern message which thrilled throughout the North, 
of Fort stirring the blood in every loyal heart: "No terms but un- 

conditional and immediate surrender can be accepted. I 
propose to move immediately upon your works." 

Buckner protested against the terms ; but he was obliged to accept 
them and to surrender unconditionally. With Fort Donelson were surren- 
dered 15,000 men, 3,000 horses, sixty-five cannon, and a great quantity of 
small arms and military stores. It was the first victory for the North, and 
the whole country was electrified. Grant's reply to Buckner became a 
household word, and the people of the North delighted to call him, '' Un- 
conditional Surrender Grant." He was made a major-general of volunteers, 
his commission bearing date of February 16, 1862, the day of the surrender 
of Fort Donelson. 



GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 451 

On April 6th, less than two months afterwards, another of Grant's 
rreat battles was fought, at Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing: in _ L _ 

> => . . The Terrible 

Mississippi. In this battle Sherman w int's chief lieuten- struggieat 

int, and tlie two men tested each i qualities in the Pittsburg 

greatest trial to which either had as yet been exposed. The 
Kittle was one of the turning-points of the war. The Confederates, 50,000 
trong, under Albert Sidney fohnston, one of their best generals, attacked 
he Union force of 40,000 men at Shiloh Church. All day on Sunday the 
tattle raged. The brave fohnston was killed; but the Union forces were 
Iriven back, and at night their lines were a mile in the rear of their position 
n the morning. Grant came into his headquarters' tent that evening, when, 
o any but the bravest and most sanguine, the battle seemed lost, and said : 
'Well, it was tough work to-day, but we will beat them out of their boots 
o-morrow." "\\iien his staff and the generals present heard this," writes 
>ne of his officers, "they were as fully persuaded of the result of the mor- 
■ow's battle as when the victory had actually been achieved." 

The next day, after dreadful fighting, the tide turned in favor of the 
Union forces, which had been strongly reinforced by General Buell during 
:he night. In the afternoon Grant himself led a charge against the Con- 
federate lines, under which they broke and were driven back. Night found 
the Union arm}- in possession of the field, after one of the severest battles 
af the war. 

A man who wins victories is apt to become a fair foil for criticism from 
:hose who lose them. "Grant is a drunkard," said his opponents. Hiis 
;harge came to the President's ears. "Grant drinks t'> () much whisky,'' 
jome fault-finder said. Lincoln replied, with his dry humor. " I wish you 
ivould tell me what brand of whisky General Grant uses; I should like to 
send some of it to our other generals." 

It would doubtless have been better if this general, who drank a light- 
ing brand of whisky, had been brought to the Last, where the war was 
proceeding in a manner tar from satisfactory. For six days 

armies of bee and McClellan met in desperate bank' J? 
before Richmond, the Union army being driven from all its 
positions, and forced to seek a new ' m the Janus River. This disaster 

was followed by a second conflict at Bull Run, which ended in one of 
the mosl sanguinary defeats of the Union side during the war. I 
repul in a measure retrieved by McClellan at Antietam, yet affairs 

did not look very bright for the Union cause, and in the winter of [862—63 
there was much depression in the North. The terrible defeats at Fred- 
ericksburg and Chancellorsville added to the anxiety of the people, and 



45 2 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 

the necessity of some signal success seemed urgent. Such a success 
came in double measure in the following summer, at Gettysburg and at 
Vicksburg. 

On a high bluff on the. east bank of the Mississippi River, which 
pursues a winding course through its fertile valley, stands the town of 
Vicksburg. From this point a railroad ran to the eastward, and from the 
opposite shore another ran westward through the rich, level country of 
Louisiana. The town was strongly fortified, and from its elevation it com- 
manded the river in both directions. So long as it was held 
Th e Vicksburg by the Confederate armies, the Mississippi could not be 
opened to navigation ; and the line of railroad running east 
and west kept communication open between the western and eastern parts 
of the Confederacy. How to capture Vicksburg was a great problem ; but 
it was one which General Grant determined should be solved. 

For eight months he worked at this problem. He formed plan after 
plan, only to be forced to abandon them. Sherman made a direct attack at 
the only place where a landing was practicable, and failed. Weeks were 
spent in cutting a canal across the neck of a peninsula formed by a great 
bend in the river opposite Vicksburg, so as to bring the gunboats through 
without their passing under the fire of the batteries ; but a flood destroyed the 
work. Meanwhile great numbers of the troops were ill with malaria or other 
diseases, and many died. There was much clamor at Washington to have 
Grant removed, but the President refused. He had faith in Grant, and 
determined to give him time to work out the great problem, — how to get 
below and in the rear of Vicksburg, on the Mississippi River. 

This was at last accomplished. On a dark night the gunboats were 
successfully run past the batteries, although every one of them was more 
or less damaged by the guns. The troops were marched across the penin- 
sula, and then taken down the river on the side opposite the town ; and on 
April 30th the whole force was landed on the Mississippi side, on high 
ground, and at a point where it could reach the enemy. 

The railroad running east from Vicksburg connected that city with 
Jackson, the state capital, which was an important railway 

assing 1 centre, and from which Vicksburg- was supplied. Grant made 

Batteries . . 

his movements with great rapidity. He fought in quick suc- 
cession a series of battles by which Jackson and several other towns were 
captured ; then, turning westward, he attacked the forces of Pemberton, drove 
him back into Vicksburg, cut off his supplies, and laid siege to the place. 

The eyes of the whole nation were now centred on Vicksburg. More 
than two hundred guns were brought to bear upon the place, besides the 



GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 453 

mtteries of the gunboats. In default of mortars, guns were improvised 

))• 1 loring out tough logs, strongly bound with iron bands, which did good ser- 

'ice. The people of Vicksburg took shelter in cellars and cavi 

o escape the shot and shell. Food of all kinds became very vi ksb* 

carce ; flour was sold at five dollars a pound, molasses at 

welve dollars a gallon. The endurance and devotion of the inhabitants 

vere wonderful. But the siege was so rigidly and relentlessly maintained 

hat there could be only one end. On July 3d, at ten o'clock, flags of truce 

vere displayed on the works, and General Pemberton sent a message to 

jrant asking for an armistice, and proposing that commissioners should 

>e appointed to arrange terms of capitulation. 

On the afternoon of the same day. Grant and Pemberton met under 
m oak between the lines of the two armies and arranged the terms of sur- 
endcr. It took three hours for the Confederate army to march out and 
tack their arms. There were surrendered 31,000 men, 250 cannon, and a 
rreat quantity of arms and munitions of war. But the moral advantage to 
he Union cause was far beyond any material gain. The fall of Vicksburg 
:arried with it that of Port Hudson, a few miles below, which surrendered 
o Banks a few days later ; and at last the great river was open from St. 
^ouis to the sea. 

The news of this great victory came to the North on the same day 
vith that of Gettysburg, July 4. 1863. The rejoicing over The Great Vic- 
he yreat triumph is indescribable. A heavy load was lifted tories and 
rom the minds of the President and his cabinet. The North 
ook heart, ami n-solved again to prosecute the war with energy. The 
lame of Grant was on every tongue. It was everywhere felt that he was 
;he foremost man of the campaign. He was at once made a major-general 
n the regular army, and a gold medal was awarded him by Congress. 

Grant's next striking victory was at Chattanooga, an important railway 
:entre in the valley of tin; Tennessee River, near where it enters Alabama, 
south of the town the slope of Lookout Mountain rises to a height of 
5000 feet above sea-level. Two miles to the east rises Missionary Ridgi 
500 feet high. Both Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge were 
)ccupied by the army of General Bragg, and his commanding position, 
strengthened by fortifications, was considered by him impregnable. 

The disastrous battle of Chickamauga, in September, 1863, had left 
:he Union armies in East Tennessee in a perilous situation, chickamauga 
General Thomas, in Chattanooga, was hemmed in by the Con- and Chat- 
federate forces, his line of supplies was endangered, and his 
men and horses were almost starving. The army was on quarter rations 



454 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 

Ammunition was almost exhausted, and the troops were short of clothing. 
Thousands of army mules, worn out and starved, lay dead along the miry 
roads. Chattanooga, occupied by the Union army, was too strongly fortified 
for Bragg to take by storm, but every day shells from his batteries upon 
the heights were thrown into the town. This was the situation when Grant, 
stiff and sore from a recent accident, arrived at Nashville, on his way to 
direct the campaign in East Tennessee. 

" Hold Chattanooga at all hazards. I will be there as soon as possible,'' 
he telegraphed from Nashville to General Thomas. " We will hold the 
town until we starve," was the brave reply. 

Grant's movements were rapid and decisive. He ordered the troops to 
be concentrated at Chattanooga; he fought a battle at Wauhatchie, in 
Lookout Valley, which broke Bragg's hold on the river below Chattanooga 
and shortened the Union line of supplies; and by his prompt and vigorous 
preparation for effective action he soon had his troops lifted out of the 
demoralized condition in which they had sunk after the defeat of Chicka- 
mauga. One month after his arrival were fought the memorable battles of 
Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge, by which the Confederate troops 
Lookout Mount- were driven out of Tennessee, their hold on the country was 
ain and Mis- broken up, and a large number of prisoners and guns were cap- 
sionary Ridge turec |. Nothing in the history of war is more inspiring than 
the impetuous bravery with which the Union troops fought their way up 
the steep mountain sides, bristling with cannon, and drove the Confederate 
troops out of their works at the point of the bayonet. An officer of Gen- 
eral Bragg's staff afterward declared that they considered their position 
perfectly impregnable, and that when they saw the Union troops, after cap- 
turing their rifle-pits at the base, coming up the craggy mountain toward 
their headquarters, they could scarcely credit their eyes, and thought that 
every man of them must be drunk. History has no parallel for sublimity 
and picturesqueness of effect, while the consequences, which were the 
division of the Confederacy in the East, were inestimable. 

After Grant's success in Tennessee, the popular demand that he should 

be put at the head of all the armies became irresistible. In Virginia the 

magnificent Army of the Potomac, after two years of fighting, 

Ueutenant- nac * been barely able to turn back from the North the tide of 

General and Confederate invasion, and was apparently as far as ever from 

Commander- captur i ns: Richmond. In the West, on the other hand, 
in-Chief f & ' 

Grant's armies had won victory after victory, had driven the 

opposing forces out of Kentucky and Tennessee, had taken Vicksburg, 

opened up the Mississippi, and divided the Confederacy in both the West 




GENERAL LEE'S INVASION OF THE NORTH 

f*be Confederate army under General Lee twice invaded the North. The first invasion was brought to a disastrous end by the Battle 

of Antic tam, September 17. 1S62. The second invasion ended with greater disaster at Gettysburg, July 1-3, 1863. 

Gettysburg was the ureaiest and Antietam the bloodiest battles « 1 the war 




5 



GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 



457 



and the East. In response to the call for Grant, Congress revived the grade 
of lieutenant-general, which had been held by only one commander, r>cott, 
since the time of Washington ; and the hero of Fort Donelson, Vicksburg, 
and Chattanooga was nominated to this rank by the President, confirmed 
by the Senate, and placed in command of all the armies of the nation. 

The relief of President Lincoln at having such a man in command was 
very great. " Grant is the first general I've had," he remarked to a friend. 
'You know how it has been with all the rest. As soon as I put a man in 
command of the army, he would come to me with a plan, and about as much 
as say, 'Now, I don't believe I can do it, but if you sav so I'll try it on,' ami 
so put the responsibility of success or failure upon me. They all wanted 
me to be the general. Now, it isn't so with Giant. He hasn't told me what 
his plans are. I don't know, and I don't want to know. I am glad to find a 
man who can go ahead without me." 

Never were the persistent courage, the determined purpose, which formed 
the foundation of Grant's character, more clearly brought out than in the Vir- 
ginia campaign ol 1864, in which he commanded ; and never The Virginia 
were the;) - more needed. Well did he know that no single Campain of 
triumph, however brilliant, would suffice. He saw plainly that ' 4 ~ 5 
nothing but "hammering away" would avail. The stone wall of the Con- 
federacy had too broad and firm a base to be suddenly overturned ; it had 
to be slowly reduced to powder. 

During the anxious days which followed the battle of the Wilderness, 
Frank B. Carpenter, the artist, relates that he asked President Lincoln, 
" How does Grant impress you as compared with other general 

" The great thing about him," said the President, " is cool persistency 
of purpose. He is not easily excited, and he has the grip of a bull-dog. 
When he once gets his teeth in, nothing can shake him off." 

His great opponent, Lee, saw and felt the same quality. When, after 
days of indecisive battle, the fighting in the Wilderness came to a pause, it 
was believed in the Confederate lines that the Union troops were falling 
back. General Gordon said to Lee, — 

" I think there is no doubt that Grant is retreating." 

The Confederate chief knew better. He shook his head. 

"You are mistaken," he replied earnestly, — "quite mistaken. Grant is 
not retreating ; he is not a retreating man." 

The battles of Spottsylvania and North Anna followed, and then came 
the disastrous affair at Cold Harbor. Then Grant changed his base to lames 
river and attacked Petersburg. Slowly but surely the Union lines closed 
in. " Falling back " on the Union side had gone out of fashion. South or 



458 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 

North, all could see that now a steady resistless force was back of the 
Union armies, pushing them ever on toward Richmond. 

Grant's losses in the final campaign were heavy, but Lee's slender 
resources were wrecked in a much more serious proportion ; and for the 
Confederates no recruiting was possible. Their dead, who lay so thickly 
beneath the fields, were the children of the soil, and there were none to 
replace them. In some cases whole families were destroyed ; but the sur- 
vivors still fought on. In the Confederate lines around 

„. ... ° Petersburg- there was often absolute destitution. An officer 

The War » 

who was there testified, shortly after the end of the struggle, 
that every cat and dog for miles around had been caught and eaten. Grant 
was pressing onward ; Sherman's march through Georgia and the Carolinas 
had proved that the Confederacy was an egg-shell ; Sheridan's splendid 
cavalry was ever hovering round the last defenders of the bars and stripes. 
Grant saw that all was over, and on April 7, J 865, he wrote that memorable 
letter calling upon Lee to surrender and bring the war to an end. Lee, 
whose army was cut off beyond possibility of escape, was obliged to con- 
sent, and the terrible four years' conflict ceased. 

We have told the chief incidents in the career as a soldier of the great 
Union general ; we have now to deal with that of his equally great oppo- 
nent in the final year of the war, the brilliant commander of the Con- 
federate forces, General Robert E. Lee. 

Of all the men whose character and ability were developed in the Civil 
War, there was perhaps not one in either army whose greatness is more 
generally acknowledged than that of the man just named. His ability as 
a soldier and his character as a man are alike appreciated; and while it 

is natural that men of the North should be unwilling to 

Character of 1 1 • . 1 • • . 1 

condone his taking- up arms against the government, yet 
General Lee & r & & » J 

that has not prevented their doing full justice to his greatness. 
It is not too much to say that General Lee is recognized, both North and 
South, as one of the greatest soldiers, and one of the ablest and purest 
men, that America has produced. 

Lee, like Grant, was a graduate of West Point and had seen service in 
the Mexican war, in which he won high honor. It was he who, when John 
Brown made his raid against Harper's Ferry, was despatched with a body 
of troops for his capture. The raiders had entrenched themselves in the 
engine house of the arsenal, but Lee quickly battered down the door, cap- 
tured them, and turned them over to the civil authorities. 

Lee, the son of " Light Horse Harry Lee," a famous general of the 
Revolutionary War, cherished an attachment to the Union which his father 



GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 45c, 

lad helped him to form, and at the breaking out of the Civil War was in great 

doubt as to what course he should take. He disapproved of ion, but 

vas thoroughly pervaded with the idea of loyalty to his state an idea 

vhich was almost universal in the South, though not enter- 

ained by the people of the North. He had great difficulty ^f*?*™ 11 ™ 
/ r r f> J to His State 

n arriving at a decision; but when at last Virginia adopted 
in ordinance of secession, he resigned his commission in the United States 
irmy. Writing to his sister, he said, "Though I recognize no necessity for 
his state of things, and would have forborne and pleaded to the end for 
•edress of grievances, yet in my own person 1 had to meet the question 
vhether I should take part against my native state. With .ill my devotion 
the Union, and the feeling of loyalty and duty as an American citizen, 
. have not been able to make up my mind to raise my hand against my 
datives, my children, my home. 1 have therefore resigned my commis- 
sion in the army, and, save in defence of my native state, I hope I may 
lever be called upon to draw my sword." 

It was not a case in which a soldier who believed in state supremacy 
:ould long hesitate. Virginia was invaded, and Lee drew ids sword "in 
lefence of his native state," his first service being as brigadier-general 
n Northwestern Virginia, where he was opposed to General Rosecrans. 
dere no important battle was fought, and in the latter part of Lee in Com- 
:86i he was sent to the coast of North Carolina, where he mandatRich- 
)lanned the defences which were held gfood against Union 
ittack until the last year of the war. After the wounding ol General J. E, 
ohnston at Fair Oaks, Lee was called to the command of the forces at 
Richmond, and on June 3, 1862, took charge of the army defending the 
Confederate capital. 

The task before him was no light one. McClellan lay before Richmond 
vith a powerful and well-appointed army, and that city was in considerable 
langer of capture. But the generals opposed to each other were of very dif- 
ferent calibre. McClellan was of the cautious and deliberate order ; Lee was 
)ne of those ready to dare all " on the hazard of a die." On June 26th he 
nade a vigorous assault on the Union army, and continued it 
vith unceasing persistence day after day for six days, driving Jfj^'t * J 
McClellan and his men steadily backward. On the final day, 
|uly 1st, the Union army, strongly posted on Malvern Hill, defeated Lee, 
vho suffered heavy loss. But .McClellan continued to retreat until the 
James River was reached and the siege of Richmond abandoned. 

A few r months passed, and then, with a sudden and rapid sweep north. 
Lee fell upon the large army which had been gathered under General Pope, 



460 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 

on the old battlefield of Bull Run. Here a terrible struggle took piace, 

°nding in the disastrous defeat of Pope. In this bloody battle the Unionists 

lost 25,000 men, of whom 9,000 were made prisoners. The Confederates 

lost about 15,000. As the defeated army had fallen back on Washington, 

that city was safe against assault, and on September 4th, with another 08 

his brilliant and rapid movements, Lee marched his army into Maryland,! 

hoping that this State would rise in his support. 

He was disappointed in this; the Marylanders proved staunch for the 

Union ; but one great advantage was gained in the capture of Harper's 

Ferry by Stonewall Jackson, with nearly 12,000 prisoners and immense 

quantities of munitions of war. It was a bloodless victory, as valuable in its' 

results for the Confederacy as had been the sanguinary battle of Bull Run. 

A few days later, on September 17th, the two late opponents, McClellan and 

Lee, met in conflict at Antietam, in the most bloody battle, for! 

Secon u Run t ^ e numbers engaged, of the war. Lee had taken a dano-erousi 
and Antietam . . . 

risk in weakening his army to despatch Jackson againsti 

Harper's Ferry. But the alert Jackson was back again, and the Confederated 
had 70,000 men to oppose to the 80,000 under McClellan. The result was in 
a measure a drawn battle, but Lee was so severely handled that he did not 
deem it safe to wait for a renewal of the conflict, and withdrew across the 
Potomac. The failure of McClellan to pursue with energy brought his 
career to an end. He was removed from command by the government and 
replaced by General Burnside. 

It cannot be said that the change of commanders was a successful one. 
Burnside attacked the vigilant Lee at Fredericksburg, on December 13th, 
and met with one of the most disastrous defeats of the war, losing nearly 
14,000 men to a Confederate loss of 5,000. General Hooker, who succeeded 
Fredericksburg him, met w i tn a similar defeat. Supplied with a splendid 
And Chancel- army, over 100,000 strong, he attacked Lee at Chancellorsville 
on May 3, 1863, and met with a terrible repulse, through a 
brilliant flank movement executed by Stonewall Jackson, losing over 17,000 
men. The Confederates had a loss, not less severe, this being the death of 
Jackson, their most brilliant leader after Lee. 

His great successes at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville led Lee to 
venture upon a daring but dangerous movement, an invasion of the North ; 
one which, if successful, might have placed Philadelphia, Baltimore, and 
Washington in his hands, but which, if unsuccessful, would leave him in a 
very critical position. 

It was, as all readers know, unsuccessful. General Meade, who replaced 
Hooker in command, followed the Confederates north with the utmost 



GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 461 

laste. and placed himself across their path at Gettysburg, in western Penn- 

iylvania. On July 1st, the advance columns of the two armii 

net, and engaged in a preliminary struggle, which ended in a Tl !f Arm ' es at 

o o r „ .^.-. > Gettysburg 

epulse of the Union forces. These fell back and took up a 

jtrong position on Cemetery Ridge, where during the night they were 

,trongly reinforced by the troops hurrying up from the south. During the 

iext two days the Union army fought on the defensive, Lee making vigor- 

>us onslaughts upon it and fighting desperately but unsuccessfully to break 

Meade's line or seize some commanding point. The end of this fierce 

struggle — which is ranked among the decisive battles of the world— came 

>n the 3d, when Lee launched a powerful column, 15,000 The Union Vic- 

trong, under General Pickett, against the Union centre. It toryatGet- 

:nded in a repulse, almost an annihilation, of the charging ys urg 

orce, and the great battle was at an end. The next day Lee retreated. 

-Ie had lost in all about 30,000 men. The Union loss aggregated about 

!3,ooo. 

The 4th of July, 1863, was in its way as great a day for the American 

Jnion as the 4th of July, 1776, for it was the great turning point in the 

Far. On this day Grant took possession of Yicksburg, with 30,000 

>risoners, and cut the Confederacy in two. And on the same day Lee 

>egan his retreat, disastrously beaten in his last act of offensive warfare. 

During the remainder of his career he was to stand on the 

lefence, until driven to bay and forced to surrender by the The jth of July, 

' J 1863 

lammer-like blows of " Unconditional surrender Grant." 

But while brilliant in offensive war, Lee was in his true element in 
lefence, and never has greater skill and ability, or more indomitable resis- 
ince, been shown than in his struggle against his vigorous adversary. 
jrrant was appointed commander-in-chief of the Union armies, on March I, 
864. Having sent Sherman to conduct a campaign in the South, he himself, 
>n May 4 and 5. crossed the Rapidan River for a direct advance on Rich- 
oond. A campaign of forty-three days followed, in which more than 100,000 
nen, frequently reinforced, were engaged on either side, (.rant xhe Great 
:ame first into encounter with Lee in the Wilderness, near the Strusslefor 
.cene of 1 looker's defeat a year before. Here, after two days 
>f terrible slaughter, the battle ended without decided advantage to either 
iide, though the Union loss was double that of the Confederates. 

Finding Lee's position impregnable, Grant advanced by a flank move- 

nent to Spottsylvania Court 1 louse. Here, on May nth, Hancock, by a 

lesperate assault, captured Generals Johnson and E. H. Stewart, with 3000 

ncn and 30 guns, while Lee himself barely escaped. But no fighting, how- 

36 



462 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 

ever desperate, could carry Lee's works. Sheridan with his cavalry now 
made a dashing raid toward Richmond. He fought the Confederate cavalry, 
killed their ablest general, J. E. B. Stuart, and returned, having suffered little 
damage, to Grant. On May 17th, Grant, having executed another flank 
movement, reached the North Anna River. But Lee had fallen back with 
his usual celerity, and the advancing army found itself again in face of 
strong entrenchments. As a vigorous attack failed to carry Lee's works, 
Grant made a third flank march, which brought him to the vicinity of 
Richmond. 

Here once more he found his indefatigable opponent in his front, 
very strongly posted at Cold Harbor. Grant, perhaps incensed at seeing 
this man always blocking up his road, hurled his tried troops upon 
the impregnable works of the enemy. It was a vain effort, leading only to< 
dreadful slaughter. The Unionists lost in this hopeless affair over 10,000 
in killed and wounded, while the Confederates escaped practically with- 
out loss. 

Grant now executed the most promising of his flank movements. He 

secretly crossed the James River about June 15th and made a dash on 

Petersburg, hoping to seize the railroads leading south and to 

on Petersburg cut tne une °^ supply of Richmond. But unforeseen delays and 

strong resistance enabled Lee to throw a force of his veterans 

into the town, and the movement failed. And now for months it was a 

question of attack and defence. Both sides threw up entrenchments of 

enormous strength, and the following fall and winter were occupied in an 

incessant artillery duel, marked by a few assaults, which had little effect 

other than that of loss of life. 

But during all this time Lee's army was weakening, while that of 
Grant was kept in full strength. At the end of March, 1865, the final 
events of the great struggle were at hand. Grant sent Warren and Sheridan 
to the south of Petersburg, to cut the Danville and Southside Railroads, 
Lee's avenues of supply. On April 1st the Confederate right wing was 
encountered and defeated at Five Forks, and on the following day the whole 
line of works defending Petersburg was successfully assailed. 

Richmond could no longer be held. Lee evacuated it that night, and 

retreated towards Danville with about 35,000 men. But the 
The End of the T t • i i r-i • j i ■ 1 1 1 • 

Conflict Union cavalry under bhendan pursued with such celerity 

that escape was cut off, and the Confederates were surrounded 
at Appomattox Court House, and forced to surrender on April 9, 1865. 

Lee had made for himself a world-wide reputation. While the bull- 
dog persistence of Grant had enabled him to crush army after army of the 



GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 463 

onfederucy, Lee had shown himself one of the most brilliant of generals, 
lccessful in all his assaults except at Gettysburg, and almost without a 
ser in defensive warfare. Only the utter exhaustion of the country behind 
im and the slow grinding of his army into fragments brought final success 

> his opponents. 

We can only refer briefly to the careers of some of the abler sub- 
rdinate commanders in the war. First among them was Sherman, whose 
tploits in great measure place him on a level with Grant and Lee. 
i truth, there was no more brilliant operation in the entire war than his 
imous " March through Georgia. " 

This striking event was the culmination of a series of successful battles 
id flank movements, by which Johnston was gradually forced back from 
hattanooga to Atlanta. Here the able Johnston was removed and replaced 
y the dashing but reckless Hood, who attacked Sherman Sherman's 
srcely, but only to meet a disastrous repulse. A final Hank March on 
.ovement, which cut off Hood's sources of supply, forced him 

> evacuate Atlanta, which Sherman occupied on September 1, 1864. It 
as the most brilliant success of the year, and Sherman became the hero of 
le hour. Hood, finding that he could do nothing there, made a dash into 
ennessee, hoping to draw Sherman after him for the defence of Nashville. 

Sherman had no intention of doing anything of the kind. I he 
:moval of Hood from his vicinity was just what he wanted, and he 
■marked in a chuckling tone, " If Hood will go to Tennessee I will be 
[ad to furnish him with rations for the trip." What he had in view was 
)mething very different ; namely, to abandon his long line of supplies, 
larch across Georgia to Savannah, nearly three hundred miles away, and 
ve upon the country as he went, while destroying one of the richest 
>urces of Confederate supply. 

The Confederate generals did not dream of a movement of such 
nusual boldness, and left the field clear for Sherman's march. For a 
tonth he and his men simply disapp No one knew Marching 

here they were, or if they were not annihilated. They had Through 
lunged into the heart of the Confederacy, far away from all 
leans of communication, and the people of the North could only wait and 
ope. " I know which hole he went in at," said Lincoln to anxious 
iquirers, "but I know no more than you at which hole he will come out." 

He came out at Savannah. He had cut a great swath, thirty miles 

ide, through Georgia, his soldiers living off the country and rendering 

incapable of furnishing supplies for the Confederate armies, and on 

>ecember 23d he sent Lincoln a despatch that carried joy throughout the 



4^4 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 

North : " I beg to present you as a Christmas gift the city of Savannah, 
with one hundred and fifty guns and plenty of ammunition, and aboul 
twenty-five thousand bales of cotton." 

The remainder of Sherman's movement may be briefly told. March] 
ing northward, he took Charleston, which had so long defied Union assault, 
without a shot. Reaching North Carolina, -he found himself opposed again 
Sherman to Johnston, but before much fighting took place the news ol 

Marches Lee's surrender came, and nothing was left for Johnstor 

except to yield up his force. Meanwhile, Thomas, who hac 
saved the army at Chickamauga, hurried to Nashville to meet the hard 
fighting Hood, and there defeated him so utterly and dispersed his arm] 
so completely that it never came together again. 

There is only one further exploit of the Union generals that calls hen 
for special mention, that of Sheridan's famous ride. In 1S64 Lee sen; 
General Early with 20,000 men to the Shenandoah Valley, recently cleared 
General Early's °f ' ts defenders, the purpose being to threaten Washingtot 
Raid on Wash- and possibly oblige Grant to weaken his forces for its defence 
Success attended Earlv's movement. He invaded Maryland, de 
feated Lew Wallace near Frederick, and reached the suburbs of Washington 
which an immediate attack might have placed in his hands. Not venturing 
however, to attack the capital, he soon returned, with large spoils in horse 
and cattle, to the Valley, where he defeated General Crook at Winchester 

In one respect this movement had failed. Grant was not induced t( 
weaken his forces to any important extent. Had it been Stonewall Jacksot 
in the Valley it might have been different, but he contented himself wit! 
sending Sheridan to take care of Early. Sheridan bided his time, despit< 
the growing impatience in the country. Grant visited him, intending tc 
propose a plan of operations, but he found that Sheridan was in full toucl 
with the situation, and left him to his own devices. 

At length, in September, Early incautiously divided his command, anl 
Sheridan, who was closely on the watch, attacked him, flanked him rig hi 
and left, broke his lines in every direction, and sent him, as he telegraphec 
"Whirling to Washington, "Whirling through Winchester." "I have 

Through never since deemed it necessary to visit General Sheridan be 

ster -" fore giving him orders," said Grant afterwards. Sheridar 
again attacked and defeated Early at Fisher's Hill, driving him out of the 
valley and into the gaps of the Blue Ridge. 

Sometime afterwards took place the most famous event in Sheridan': 
career. During an absence at Washington his camp at Cedar Creek waj 
surprised by Early, the men were driven back in disorderly rout, and eighteen 



GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 

;uns and nearly a thousand prisoners were lost. Sheridan on his way back 

rom the capital, had stopped for the night at Winchester. On his way to the 

ront the next morning the sound of distant guns came to his ears. Per- 

eiving that a battle was in progress, he rode forward at full speed. Soon 

n to meet frightened fugitives, and guessed what had happened. 

faking- off his hat, he swung it in the air as he dashed onward at a gallop, 

houting. "Face the other way, boys; face the other way. We're going 

>ack to lick them out of their boots ! " 

His words were electrical. The fugitives did "face the other way." As 

le came nearer and met the retreating companies and regiments, he rallied 

hem with the same inspiring cry. The men turned hack. The Confederates, 

i'ho were rilling their camp, were astounded to find a routed 

, , , .. iiii- Sheridan's Ride 

irmy chan upon them. Dismay spread through their 

anks, they were thrown into disorder, and were soon in full flight, having 
ost all the captured guns and twenty-four more, with a heavy loss in killed, 
mounded, and prisoners. Since that day "Sheridan's ride" has been cele- 
>rated in song and story as the most dramatic incident of the war. 

We have told some of the exciting events of the conflict from the 
Jnion side. The Confederates also had their dashing generals and thrilling 
leeds of valor. But this chapter is already so extended that we must con- 
ine ourselves to an account of but one in addition to Lee, the renowned 
Stonewall Jackson. It is well known how Thomas J. Jackson got this title 
if honor. In the battle of Bull Run Ids men stood so firm amid the 
lisordered fragments of other corps, that General Bee called attention to 
hem : " Look at those Virginians ! They stand like a stone wall." The 
itle of " Stonewall" clung to their leader until his death. His most famous 
/ork was done in the Shenandoah Valley. In March, 1862, stonewall 
le retreated before Banks some forty miles, then suddenly Jackson and 
urned and with only 3,500 men drove him back in dismay. 
kit his most brilliant exploit was in April, when lie whipped Milroy. Banks, 
Shields, and Fremont, one after another, in the Valley, and then suddenly 
urned, marched to Lee's aid, and helped to defeat McClellan at Gaines's 
dills, the first victory in the memorable six days' light. 

In August, 1862, he drove Pope back from the Rappahannock, and by 
tubborn fighting held him fast until Longstreet could get up to aid in the 
ictory of the second Bull Run. We have told of his striking exploit at 
harper's Ferry, and how he won the day at Chancellorsville. Here 
ie was wounded by a mistaken volley from his own men, was soon alter at- 
acked with pneumonia, and died on May 10, 1S03. Thus fell the ablest 
lan, after Lee, that the great contest developed on the Confederate side. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 
The Indian in the Nineteenth Century 

THE relation of the American people to the Indians, since the firsc 
settlement of this country, has been one of conflict, which has been 
almost incessant in some sections of the land By the opening of the 
nineteenth century the red men had been driven back in great measure from 
the thirteen original states, but the tribes in the west were still frequently 
The Relation of hostile, and stood sternly in the way of our progress westward. 
Whites and We propose in this chapter to describe the various relations, 
both peaceful and warlike, which have existed between the 
whites and the red men during the century with which we are here concerned. 
The close of the Revolutionary War brought only a partial cessation 
of the Indian warfare. The red man was by no means disposed to give up 
his country without a struggle, and throughout the interior, in what is 
now Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin, and along the Ohio River, there were 
constant outbreaks, and battles of great severity. The conflict in Indiana 
brought forward the services of a young lieutenant, William Henry Harrison, 
who for many years had much to do with Indians, both as military officer 
and as governor of the Indian territory. In 1 8 1 1 appeared one of those 
great Indian chiefs whose abilities and influence are well worth attention 
and study. Tecumseh, a mighty warrior of mixed Creek and Shawnee 
blood, was one who dreamt the dream of freeing his people. With elo- 
quence and courage he urged them on, by skill he combined the tribes in a 
new alliance, and, encouraged by British influence, he looked forward to a 
great success. While he was seeking to draw the Southern Indians into his 
scheme, his brother rashly joined battle with General Harrison, and was 
utterly defeated in the fight which gained for Harrison the title of Old 
Tippecanoe. Disappointed and disheartened at this destruction of his life- 
work, Tecumseh threw all his great influence on the British side in the War 
of i S 1 2, in which he dealt much destruction to the United 

Harrison and States troops. At Sandusky and Detroit and Chicago, and at 
Tecumseh . r J & ' 

other less important forts, the Indian power was severely felt ; 

but at Terre Haute the young captain Zachary Taylor met the savages 

with such courage and readiness of resources that they were finally repulsed. 

468 



THE INDIAN IX Till-: NINETEENTH CENTURY 469 

But rarely did a similar good fortune befall our troops ; and it was not until 
after Commodore Perry won victory for us at Lake Erie, that Tecumseh 
himself was killed, and the twenty-five hundred Indians of his force were 
finally scattered, in the great fight of the Thames River, where our troops 
were commanded by William Henry Harrison and Richard M. Johnson, 
afterward President and Vice-President of the United States. For a little 
time the Northwest had peace. But in the South the warfare was not over. 
Tecumseh had stirred up the Creeks and Seminoles against the whites, and 
throughout Alabama. Georgia, and Northern Florida the Creek War raged 
with all its horrid accompaniments until 1814 ; even the redoubtable Andrew . 
Jackson could not conquer tin- brave Creeks until they were almost extermi- 
nated, and then a small remnant remained in the swamps of Florida to be 
heard of at a later time. 

Before the new government of the United States was fully upon its 
feet it recognized the necessity and duty of caring for its Indian population. 
In 1775, a year before the Declaration of Independence, the Continental 
Congress divided the Indians into three departments, northern, middle and 
southern, each under tin- care of three or more commissioners, among whom 
we find no less personages than Oliver Wolcott, Philip Schuyler, Patrick 
Henry and Benjamin Franklin. As early as 1812 the young 

. " , . ,, c 1 • 1 • re ,, National 

nation tound itseli confronted with a serious Indian problem, p er icd 

ted a separate bureau for the charge of the red men, and 
inaugurated a definite policy of treatment. Speaking in general, we have 
altered this policy three times. As a matter of fact, we have altered its 
details, changed its plans, and adopted new methods of management as often 
as changing administrations have changed the administrators of our Indian 
affairs. But in the large, there have been three great steps in our Indian 
policy, and these have to some extent growai out of our changing conditions. 
The first plan was that of the reservations. Under that system, as the 
Indian land was wanted by the white population, the red man was removed 
across the Mississippi and pushed step by step still further west ; and as 
time went on and the population followed hard after, he was 
eventually confined to designated tracts. Yetdespite the fact Policy 
that these tracts were absolutely guaranteed to him, he was 
driven off them again and again as the farmer or the miner demanded the 
land. In time a new policy was attempted, or rather an old policy was 
revived, that of concentrating the whole body of Indians into one state or 
territory, but the obvious impossibility of that scheme soon brought it to an 
end. Less than thirty years ago the present plan took its place-, that of 
education and eventual absorption. 



470 THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTUR V 

In 1830 the country seemed to stretch beyond any possible need of the 
young nation, lusty as it was, and the wide wilderness of the Rocky Moun- 
tains promised to furnish hunting grounds for all time. The Mississippi 
Valley and the Northwest were still unsettled, but in the South the Five 
Nations were greatly in the way of their white neighbors, and the work of the 
removal of the latter beyond the Mississippi was begun. Under President 
Monroe several treaties were made with those tribes — the Creeks, Chero* 
kees, Choctaws, Chickasaws and Seminoles — by which, one after another, 
Removal of the they ceded their lands to the government, and took in ex- 
Southern change the country now known as the Indian Territory. 
They were already somewhat advanced in civilization, with 
leaders combining in blood and brain the Indian astuteness and the white 
man's experience and education. John Ross, a half-breed chief of the 
Cherokees, of unusual ability, brought about the removal under conditions 
more favorable than often occurred. He was bitterly opposed by full half 
the Indians, and it was not without sufferings and losses of more than one 
kind that the great southern leao-ue was removed to the fair and fertile land 
set aside for them in the far-off West. It was owing to the sagacity of 
John Ross and his associates that this land was secured to them, in a way 
in which no other land has ever been secured to an Indian tribe. They 
hold it to-day by patent, as secure in the sight of the law as an old Dutch 
manor house or a Virginia plantation, and all the learning of the highest 
tribunals has not yet found the way to evade or disregard these solemn 
obligations. To these men, too, and to the missionaries who long taught 
their tribes, do they owe an effective form of civilization, and a governmental 

polity which preserves for them alone, amone all the red men, 
War with the f, J . . ' . , . „. & „ . . . 

Seminoles t' 16 tl,: ' e an " l ^ e state of nations. 1 he Seminoles, who 

were of the Creek blood, were divided, some of them going 
west with their brethren, the larger number of them remaining in Florida. 
With these — about 4,000 in all — under their young and able chief, Osceola, 
the government fought a seven years' war, costing many lives and forty 
millions in money, and did not then succeed in removing all the Seminoles 
from their much-loved home. 

A similar state of affairs attended the removals in the north. The sav- 
ages bitterly opposed giving up their native soil, there being in every case 
two parties in the tribe, one that sorrowfully yielded to the necessity of sub- 
mission, and one that indulged in the hopeless dream of successful resistance. 
Thus the Sac and Fox tribe of Wisconsin was divided, and although 
Keokuk and one band went peaceably to their new home among the lowas, 
Clack Hawk and his followers were slow to depart, and were removed by 



THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 471 

force. The Indian Department failed to furnish corn enough for the new 
settlement, and, going to seek it among the Winnebagoes, the Indians 
came into collision with the government. Thereafter ensued a series of 
misund . and consequent fights, resulting in great Hostilities with 

alarm among the whites and destruction to the Indians. The Northern 
stop same story, almost to details, that has been fre- n es 

quently seen since that time. After the fashion above described all the 
removals have- proceeded, the can tin same, the white man's -reed 

and the ferocity of the wronged and infuriated savage. 

It is useless and impossible to give the details of all tin: various tribes 
that have been pushed about in the manner described. In 1830 the East 
was already crowding toward the West, and every succeeding decade saw 
the frontier moved onward with giant strides. Everywhere the Indian was 
an undesirable neighbor, and when, in 1 S49, the discover)' of gold began to 
create a new nation on the Pacific -lope, a pressure began from that side 
also, and the intervening deserts became a thoroughfare for the pilgrims ol 
fortune and the lovers of adventure. From yi ar to year the United Si 
made fresh treaties with the tribes; those in the East were- Treatmentof 
gone already, those in the interior were following fast, and the Western 
there had arisen the new necessity of dealing with those in 
the far West. One tribe after another would be planted on a reservation 
millions of acres in extent and apparently far beyond the home of civiliza- 
tion, and almost in a twelvemonth the settler would be upon its border, 
demanding its broad acres. The reservations were altered, reduced, taken 
away altogether, at the pleasure of the government, with little regard to 
the rights or wishes of the Indian. Usually this brought about lighting, 
and it produced a state of permanent discontent that wrought harm for 
belli settler and savage. The Indian grew daily more and m acherous 

and constantly more cruel. The white settler was daily in greater danger, 
and constantly more eager for revenge. 

A new complication entered into the problem. The game was fast 
disappearing, and with it the subsistence of the Indian. It became n< 
sary for the government to furnish rations and clothes, lest he should starve 
ami freeze. Cheating was the rule and deception the every-day experience of 
these savages. In 1795 General Wayne gained the nickname 
of General To-morrow, so slow was the government to fulfill morrow""" 
his promises ; and thus for more than a hundred years it was 
to-morrow for the Indian. Exasper .oiul endurance, he was ever 

[y to retaliate, and the horrors of an Indian war constantly hung over 
the pioneer. During all this period we treated the Indian tribes as if they 



472 THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

were foreign nations, and made solemn treaties with them, agreeing to 

furnish them rations or marking the reservation bounds. We have made 

more than a thousand of these treaties, and General Sherman is the 

authority for the statement that we have broken every one of them. Day 

by day the gluttonous idleness, the loss of hope, the sense of wrong, and 

the bitter feeling of contempt united to degrade the red man as well as to 

madden him. 

The fighting did not cease, for all the promises or the threats of the 

government. But always, it is credibly declared, the first cause of an Indian 

outbreak was a wrong inflicted upon some tribe. And always, in the latter 

days as in the earlier period, it has meant one more effort on the part of 

the old warriors to regain the power they saw slipping away so fast. 

Both these causes entered into the awful Sioux War in Min- 

t S <!? ux ar nesota in 1862. Sufferincr from piled-up wrongs, smarting 
of 1862 & L L . . 

under the loss of power, and conscious that the Civil War 
was their opportunity, a party of one hundred and fifty Sioux began the 
most horrid massacre known for fifty years ; the beginning of a struggle 
which lasted more than a year, and which was remarkable for the steadfast 
fidelity of the Christian Indians, to whose help and succor whole bodies of 
white men owed their lives. Four years later, in 1866, the discovery of gold 
in Montana caused the invasion of the Sioux reservation, and Red Cloud 
set about defending it. Scarcely more than thirty years old, but no mean 
warrior, he fought the white man long and desperately and with the cunning 
of his race. 

This outbreak was scarcely quieted when another occurred. As was its 
wont, the government forgot the promises of its treaty of peace, and a small 
band of the Cheyennes retaliated with a raid upon their white neighbors. 
General Sheridan made this the occasion he was seeking for a war of exter- 
mination, and in November, 1868, Lieutenant Custer fell upon Black Kettle's 
village and after a severe fight destroyed the village, killing more than a 
hundred warriors and capturing half as many women and children. The 
next year General Sheridan ordered the Sioux and Cheyennes off the hunt- 
ing grounds the treaty had reserved to them, but these were the strongest 

and bravest of the tribes and they resisted the order. A 
Massacre of J 

QeneralCus- number of Civil War heroes, Crook, Terry, Custer, Miles and 

ter'sCom- McKenzie, led our troops, and among the chiefs whom they 

met in a long and desperate struggle were Crazy Horse and 

Spotted Tail, notable warriors both. At the battle of the Big Horn, by 

some misunderstanding or mismanagement, General Custer was left with only 

five companies to meet nearly three thousand savage Sioux. He fought 



THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 473 

desperately until the last, but he was killed and his command so utterly des- 
troyed that not a single man was left alive. The attempt to remove the 
Modocs from California to Oregon in [872 was the signal for a new war; and 
a year or two afterwards similar results followed when it was attempted to 
push the Nez Perces from the homes they had sought in Oregon to a new 
reservation in Idaho. This tribe, under its famous leader, Chief Joseph, was 
hard to conquer. The military organization, the civilized method of warfare, 
and the courage and skill of the tribe were publicly complimented by Gen- 
erals Sherman, Howard and Gibbons, who declared Chief Joseph to be one 
of the greatest of modern warriors. 

In 1877, discouraged by the failure of our efforts to hold the Indians in 
check, it was determined by Secretary Schurz, then in charge of the Depart- 
ment of the Interior, to remove them all to the western part ol the Indian 
Territory, where the tribes in possession agreed to cede the necessary 
It was hoped to create there aa Indian commonwealth, but trouble arose from 
the attempt to carry out the well-meant effort. A single story, the story of the 
Northern Cheyennes, will illustrate the wrongs the Indian suffered, as well 
as those he infl: ed. The Cheyennes, as has been seen, were a tribe of 
valiant warriors ome of them at home in the hills of the North, some 
residing in the hills of the South. The Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas 
and Comanches were banded together in a close and common bond, and, 
at first the friends of the government, had become frequently its enemies, 
by reason of broken faith, cruel treatment, injustice, and downright wrong. 
That chronicle of misery, " A Century of Dishonor," contains forty pages 
of facts taken from the government records, which relate the Barbarous 

inexcusable and indefensible treatment of tin- Cheyenne tribe Trcatmentof 
, , , , • • , r the Cheyennes 

by the government, and their vain endurance of wrongs, inter- 3 

spersed with savage outbreaks, when human nature could endure no longer. 
It includes the account of a massacre of helpless Indian women and children 
under a flag of truce ; a war begun over ponies stolen from the Indians, ami 
sold in the open market by the whites in a land where the horse thief counts 
with the murderer ; another incited by a rage against a trader who paid one 
dollar bills for ten dollar bills; and tells of whole tracts of land seized with- 
out compensation by the United States itself. 

The Northern Cheyennes had been taken by force to the Indian Terri- 
torry, and in its severe heat, with scant and poor rations, a pestilence came 
upon them. Two thousand were sick at once, and many died because there 

not medicine enough. At last three hundred braves, old men and young, 
with their women and children, broke away and, making a raid through 
Western Kansas, sought their Nebraska home. This was not a mild and 



474 THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

peaceable tribe. It was fierce and savage beyond most, and its people were 
wild with long endured injustice and frantic with a nameless terror. Three 
How the Chey- tnries they drove back the troops who were sent to face them, 

ennes were and, living by plunder, they made a red trail all through Kansas, 
until they were finally captured in Nebraska in December. They 
refused to go back to the Indian Territory, and the department ordered them 
to be starved into submission. Food and fuel were taken from the imprisoned 
Indians. Four days they had neither food nor fire — and the mercury froze 
at Fort Robinson in that month ! And when at last two chiefs came out 
under a flag of truce, they were seized and imprisoned. Then pandemonium 
broke loose inside. The Indians broke up the useless stoves, and fought 
with the twisted iron. They brought out a few hidden arms, and, howling 
like devils, they rushed out into the night and the snow. Seven days later 
they were shot down like dogs. 

Experiences like this soon ended the attempt to gather together all our 
Indian wards, and we returned to the old plan of the reservations, but with 
little more certainty of peace than before. Again and again starvation was 
followed by fighting, nameless outrages upon the Indian by cruel outrages 
upon the white man. Whether Apaches under Geronimo in New Mexico, 
or Sioux in Dakota, it was the old story over again. Thus, with constant 
danger menacing the white settler from the infuriated savage Indian, and 
constant outrage upon the red man by rapacious and cruel whites, the 
President Grant government found a new policy necessary. This policy was 

AdoptsaNew inaugurated by a strange and unusual sequence of events. 

System j n l g^g a s h ar p difference arose between the two Houses of 

Congress over the appropriations to pay for eleven treaties then just 
negotiated, and the session closed with no appropriation for the Indian 
service. The necessity for some measure was extreme ; the plan was devised 
of a bill which was passed at an extra session, putting two millions of dollars 
in the hands of President Grant, to be used as he saw fit for the civilization 
and protection of the Indian. He immediately called to his aid a commision 
composed of nine philanthropic gentlemen to overlook the affairs of the 
Indian and advise him thereupon. This commission served without salary 
and continues to this day its beneficent work. Another valuable measure 
followed. At the next Congress a law was enacted forbidding any more 
treaties with Indians, and thenceforth they became our wards ; not foreigners 
and rivals, as practically the case before. 

The war of 1877 had indirectly another beneficent result, most far-reach- 
ing in its consequences. Among the brave men who had fought the Chey- 
ennes and Kiowas and Comanches, was Captain Richard H. Pratt, who was 



i 




JAMES G. BLAINE 



WILLIAM MlKIXLEY 




GROVER CLEVELAND WILLIAM J. BRYAN 

3REAT AMERICAN POLITICAL LEADERS, LAST QUARTER OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 




WHITEI.AW REID. (if 1 JULIAN HAWTHORNE. RICHARD HARDING DAVJS. 

NOTED AMERICA v TOURNAL1STS AND MAGAZINE CONTRIBUTORS. 



THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 477 

put in charge of the prisoners who had been sent to l r <>rt Marion, Florida, 
as a punishment worst: than death. The) wen- the wildest and fiercest 
warriors, who had fought long and desperately. On their way Mast they 
killed their guard, and repeatedly tried, one and another, to kill the. 
But Captain Pratt was a man of wonderful executive ability, of splendid 
courage and great faith in God and man. By firmness and patience and 
wondrous tact he gradually taught the savages to read and to work, and when 
after three years the government offered to return them to their Capta j n p r; . tt 
homes, twenty-three of them refused to go. Captain Pratt and his Cap- 
appealed to the government to continue their education, and 
General Armstrong, with his undying faith in human beings as children of 
one Father and his sublime enthusiasm for humanity, received most of them at 
Hampton Institute, the rest being sent to the North under the care of Bishop 
Huntington, of New York. In the end these nun returned to their tribes 
Christian men, and, with the seventy who returned directly from Florida, 
they became a power for peace and industry in their tribe. Out of 
this small beginning grew the great policy of Indian education, ami the long 
story of death and destruction began to change to the bright chronicle of 
oeace and education. 

What, then, is the condition of the Indian to-day? In number there 
are scarcely more than two hundred and forty thousand in the whole coun- 
try. Of these less than one-fifth depend upon the government for support. 
All told, they are fewer than the inhabitants of Buffalo or Cleveland or 
Pittsburg, yet they are not dying out, but rather steadily increasing. They 
are divided and subdivided into many tribes of different characteristics 
and widely different degrees of civilization. Some are Sioux — these are 
brave and able and intelligent; they live in wigwams or tepees, and are 

dangerous and often hostile. Some are Zunis, who live in 

, , 1 1 -r 1 1 -ill How the Indians 

houses and make beautiful pottery, and are mild and peace- L|ye 

able, and do not question the ways of the Great Father at 

Washington. Some are roving bands of Shoshones, dirty, ignorant, and 

shiftless — the tramps of their race- -who are on every man's side at once. 

Some are Chilcats or Klinkas, whose Alaskan homes offer new problems of 

new kinds for every day we know them. And some are Cherokees, living 

in fine houses, dressed in the latest fashion, and spending their winters in 

Washington or Saint Louis. 

Yet these, and many of other kinds, are all alike Indians. They have 

their own governments, their own unwritten laws, their own customs. As 

a race they are neither worthless nor degraded. The Indian is not only 

brave, strong, and able by inheritance and practice to endure, but die is 



478 THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

patient under wrong, ready and eager to learn, and willing to undergo much 
privation for that end ; usually affectionate in his family relations, grateful 
to a degree, pure and careful of the honor of his wife and daughter ; and 
he is also patriotic to a fault. He has a genius for government, and an 
unusual interest in it. He is full of manly honor, and he is strongly reli- 
gious. His history and traditions have only recently been traced, to the de- 
light and surprise of scientific students. His daily life is a thing of ela- 
borate ceremonial, and his national existence is as carefully regulated as our 
own, and by an intricate code. It is true that our failure to comprehend 
his character and our neglect to study his customs have bred many faults 
in him and have fostered much evil. Our treatment of him, moreover, has 
produced and increased a hostility which has been manifested in savage 
methods for which we have had little mercy. 

But we have not always given the same admiration to warlike virtues 

when our enemy was an Indian that we have showered without stint upon 

ancient Gaul or modern German. The popular idea of the Indian not only 

misconceives his character, but to a large degree his habits also. 

Ia " , a .™ c er Even the wildest tribes live for the most part in huts or cabins 
and Habits _ l 

made of logs, with two windows and a door. In the middle 
is a fire, sometimes with a stovepipe and sometimes without. Here the 
food is cooked, mostly stewed, in a kettle hung gypsy-fashion, or laid on 
stones over the fire. Around the fire, each in a particular place of his own, 
lies or sits the whole family. Sometimes the cooking is done out of doors, 
and in summer the close cabin is exchanged for a tepee or tent. Here they 
live, night and day. At night a blanket is hung up, partitioning the tent 
for the younger women, and if the family is very large, there are often two 
tents, in the smaller of which sleep the young girls in charge of an old 
woman. These tents or cabins are clustered close together, and their in- 
habitants spend their days smoking, talking, eating, or quarreling, as the 
case may be. Sometimes near them, sometimes miles away, is the agent's 
house and the government buildings. These are usually a commissary build- 
ing where the food for the Indians is kept, a blacksmith shop, the store of 
the trader, school buildings, and perhaps a saw-mill. To this place the 
Indians come week by week for their food. The amount and nature of the 

rations called for by treaties vary greatly among different 
Agencies tribes. But everywhere the Indian has come into some sort of 

contact with the whites, and usually he makes some shift to 
adopt the white man's ways. A few are rich, some own houses, and almost 
universally, at present, government schools teach the children something 
of the elements of learning as well as the indispensable English. 



THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENT/ r RY 470 

Tlie immediate control of the reservation Indian is in the hands of the 
agent, whose power is almost absolute, and, like all despotisms, may be 
very good or intolerably bad according to the character of the man. The 
agencies are visited from time to time by inspectors, who report directly to 
the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, — an officer of the Interior Department 
and responsible to the secretary, who is, of course, amenable to the Presi- 
dent. In each house of Congress is a committee having charge of all legis- 
lation relating to Indian affairs. Besides these officials there is the Indian 
Commission already mentioned. The National Indian Rights Association 
and the Women's National Indian Association are the unofficial and volun- 
tary guardians of the Indian work. It is their ta.sk to spread correct inhu- 
mation, to create intelligent interest, to set in motion public and private 
forces which will bring about legislation, and by public meetings and private 
labors to prevent wrongs against the Indian, and to further good work of 
man)- kinds. While the Indian Rights Association does the xhe Indian 
most public and official work for the race and has large in- Rights Asso- 
lluence over legislation, the Women's Indian Association con- ua l0n 
cerns itself more largely with various philanthropic efforts in behalf of the 
individual, anil thus the two bodies supplement each other. 

Hopeless and impossible as it seemed to many when this effort began 

to absorb the Indian, to-day we see the process well under way and in some 

cases half accomplished; and in this work the government, philanthropy, 

education and religion have all had their share, and so closely have these 

worked together that neither can he set above nor before tin: others. We 

in to realize, it is true, that our duty and our safety alike lay in educating 

the Indians as early as 1819. when Congress appropriated $10,000 for that 

purpose, and still earlier President Washington declared 1,. a deputation of 

Indians his belief that industrial education was their greatesl 

, , . . .... . , in- Appropriations 

need ; but it is only within recent years that determined enorts for Education 
have been made or adequate provision afforded. lie-inning 
with $10,000 in 1X10, we had reached only ^10,000 in 1S77 ; but the appro- 
priation for Indian education is now over $2, 500,000. Willi this money we 
support great industrial training schools established at varii aveiiient 

points. In them several thousand children are learning not only 1 ks, but 

all manner of industries, and are adding to study the training of character. 
There are more than 150 boarding schools on the. various reservations 
teaching and training these children of the hills and plains, and many 
gather daily at the three hundred little day schools which dot the prairies, 
some of them appearing to the unintiated to be miles away from any habi- 
tation. This does not include the mission schools of the various churches. 



4 8o THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

But all together it is hoped that in the excellent government schools now 
provided, in the splendid missionary seminaries, and in the great centres of 
light like Hampton and Carlisle and Haskell Institute, we shall soon do 
something for the education of nearly or quite all the Indian children who 
can be reached with schools. At present the daily school attendance is 
over 20,000. 

The two great training schools at the East, Hampton and Carlisle, 
Hampton and have proved object lessons for the white man as well as the 
Carlisle ln= Indian, and the opposition they constantly encounter from 
ian c 00s those who do not believe that the red man can ever receive 
civilization is in some sort a proof of their value. In the main, they and 
all their kind have one end — the thorough and careful training in books and 
work and home life of the Indian boy and girl — and their methods are much 
alike. Once a year the superintendents or teachers of these schools go out 
among the Indians and bring back as many boys and girls as they can per- 
suade the fathers and mothers to send. At first these children came in dirt 
and filth, and with little or no ideas of any regular or useful life, but of late 
many of them have gained some beginnings of civilization in the day 
schools. They are taught English first, and by degrees to make bread and 
sew and cook and wash and keep house if they are girls ; the trade of a 
printer, a blacksmith, a carpenter, etc., if they are boys. They study books, 
the boys are drilled, and from kind, strong men and gentle, patient women 
they learn to respect work and even to love it, to turn their hands to any 
needed effort, to adapt themselves to new situations. 

It is charged that the Indian educated in these schools does not remain 
civilized, but shortly returns to his habits and customs. A detailed examina- 
tion into the lives of three hundred and eighteen Indian students who have 

gone out from Hampton Institute has shown that only thirtv-five 
The Effect of ,~ . . . . . . , , . , '. , 

Education nave in any way disappointed the expectations 01 their mends 

and teachers, and only twelve have failed altogether ; and the 

extraordinary test of the last Sioux war, in which only one of these students, 

and he a son-in-law of Sitting Bull, joined the hostiles, may well settle the 

question. A recent statement says that 76 per cent, of the school graduates 

prove "good average men and women, capable of taking their place in the 

great body politic of our country." 

In 1887 a new step was taken for the advancement of the Indian, in 

the passage of the Severalty Act, by which homesteads of 160 acres were 

set aside for each head of a family willing to accept the proffer, and smaller 

homesteads for other members of the family. These were to be free from 

taxation and could not be sold for twenty-five years. They might be 



THE INDIAN OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 481 

selected on the reservation of the tribe or anywhere else on the public 
domain. This allotment of land carried with it all the rights, privileges 
and immunities of American citizenship. In case the Indian 
should not care to take up a homestead, he could still become Act^ 
a citizen if he took up his residence apart from the tribe and 
adopted civilized habits. The purpose was to break up the tribal organiza- 
tion which had stood so greatly in the way of the beneficent purposes of 
the government, and to convert each Indian into an individual citizen of the 
United States. 

The effort has been attended with highly encouraging success. Within 
twelve years after the law was passed 55,467 Indians had taken up homesteads, 
aggregating in all 6.70S.62S acres. Of these agriculturists, more than 15,000 
were heads of families, around whose farms wen- gathered the smaller ones 
of the other members of the family. The change to the 
independence and responsibilites of United States citizenship e °" 
was so sudden as to prove a severe strain to the Indian, 
accustomed to consider himself a fraction of a tribe and lacking the full 
sense of individuality. Yet the failures have been very few, and we begin 
to see our way clear to a final disposal of the long-existing Indian question. 

As regards the effect of religious training upon the Indians, it may be 
said to be quite encouraging. Of the 33,000 Sioux, for instance, 8,000 are 
now church members. The Presbyterian Church numbers nearly 5,000 
Indian members and 4,000 Sunday-school pupils ; while the total number 
of church communicants among the Indians is nearly 30,000. 

Thus, with the close of the nineteenth century, there is good reason to 
hope for the end of a serious difficulty that has confronted the whites since 
their first settlement in this country nearly three hundred years ago. War, 
slaughter, injustice, wrongs innumerable have attended its attempted solu- 
tion, which long seemed as if it would be reached only when all the red men 
had been exterminated. Fortunately it was justice, not slaughter, that was 
needed, and the moment our government awoke fully to this 
fact and began to practice justice the difficulty began to disap- , e .. u c °"] e ° 

& f J j & 1 Indian Policy, 

pear. To-day just treatment, education, religious training are 

rapidly overcoming the assumed ineradicable savageness of the Indian, while 

the breaking up of the tribal system promises before many years to do away 

with the political aggregation of the Indians, and distribute them among 

the other citizens of our country as members of the general body politic. 

Thus has the nineteenth century happily disposed of an awkward problem 

that threatened seriously the successful development of our nation a 

century ago. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

The Development of the American Navy. 

IN scarcely any department of human industry are the changes produced 
by the progress of civilization more strikingly seen than in the navy. 
When America was discovered the galleon and the caravel were the 
standard warships of the world — clumsy wooden tubs, towering high in the 
air, propelled by sails and even oars, with a large number of small cannons, 
and men armed with muskets and cross-bows. Such was the kind of vessels 
that made up the famous Armada, " that great fleet invincible," which was 
vanquished by the smaller and lighter crafts of Britain. Three hundred 
years have passed, and what is the warship of to-day ? A low-lying hulk 
Development in °f > ron ar >d steel ; armed with a few big guns, each one of 
Naval Archi- which throws a heavier shot than a galleon's whole broadside '< 
driven resistlessly through the water by mighty steam engines ; 
lighted and steered by electric apparatus, and using an electric search-light 
that makes midnight as bright as day. All the triumphs of science and 
mechanic arts have contributed to the perfection of these dreadful sea 
monsters, a single one of which could have destroyed the whole Armada in 
an hour, and laughed to scorn the mieht of Nelson at Trafalgar. 

And in the development of this modern warship no other nation on earth 
has won as much credit as the United States, the whole career of which upon 
the sea has been one of glory and success, while its inventors and engineers 
have gained as much renown as its admirals and sailors, in their develop- 
ment of new ideas in naval architecture and warfare. Of all ocean exploits 
American m history that of John Paul Jones in the Bon Homme Richard 

Sailors and ranks first. Lord Nelson himself scarcely showed such indomi- 
Their Doings table p]uck and j ntre p ic ii t y. And in the war of 1812 Ameri- 
can ships and sailors took from Great Britain the credit of being the mistress 
of the seas, winning gallantly in every conflict where the forces engaged were 
at all near equality. 

This good work of the sailors was aided by that of the shipwrights. 

the Americans winning battles largely because they had better ships than their 

opponents. But their success was also in great measure due to the 

superiority of their ordnance and the better service of their guns. It was 

482 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 4S5 

to the careful sighting of the pieces that our sailors owed much of their 

victorious career. While most of the British shot were wasted 

on the sea and in the air, nearly all the American halls went Amer,can 

; . , narksmanship 

home, carrying death to the British crews and destruction to 

their hulls and spars, while the American ships and sailors escaped in 
great measure unharmed. 

As regards the work of our naval inventors, it will suffice to say, that 
the Americans, while not the first to plate vessels with iron, were the first 
to do so effectively and to prove the superiority of the ironclad in naval 
warfare. The memorable contest in Hampton Roads between the Monitor 
and the Merrimac made: useless in a day all the fleets of all the nations of 
the world, and caused such a revolution in naval architecture and warfare as 
the world had never known. 

The fleet with which the United States entered the nineteenth century 
lue to the depredations on American ships and commerce of the war 
vessels of France and Great Britain. This roused great indignation, par- 
ticularly against France. While England contented herself with stopping 
American ships on the high seas and impressing sailors claimed to be of 
British birth, France seized our ships themselves, under the pretext that 
they had British goods on board, and if she found an American seaman on 
a British ship — even if impressed — she treated him as a The Early 
pirate instead of as a prisoner of war. Protection was felt American 
to be necessary, and preparations for war were made. The 
small navy of the Revolution had practically disappeared, and a new one 
was built. In July, 1798, the three famous frigates, the Constellation, the 
United Stales, and the Constitution — the renowned Old Ironsides — v. 
completed and sent to sea, and others were ordered to be built. Actual 
hostilities soon began. French piratical cruisers were captured, and an 
American squadron sailed for the West Indies to deal with the French 
privateers that abounded there, in which work it was generally successful. 
In January, 1799, Congress voted a million dollars, for building six ships of 
the line and six sloops. Soon after, on February 9, occurred 

the first engagement between vessels of the American and e . a X a ar 

T . , , , with France 

French navies. The Constellation, Captain Truxton, over- 
hauled L'Insurgente at St. Kitts, in the West Indies, and after a fight of an 
hour and a quarter forced her to surrender. The Constellation had three 
men killed and one wounded ; U 'Insurgente twenty killed and forty-six 
wounded. 

Again, on February 1, 1800, Truxton with the Constellation came up, 
at Guadeloupe, with the French Frigate La Vengeance. Alter chasing her 



486 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NA VY 

two days he brought on an action. The two ships fought all night. In the 
morning, La Vengeance, completely silenced and greatly shattered, drew 
away and escaped to Curacoa, where she was condemned as unfit for further 
service. The Constellation was little injured save in her rigging. For his 
gallantry, Truxton received a gold medal from Congress. Later in that 
year there were some minor engagements, in which the American vessels 
were successful. 

By the spring of 1S01, friendly relations with France were restored. 
The President was accordingly authorized to dispose of all the navy, save 
thirteen ships, six of which were to be kept constantly in commission, and 
to dismiss from the service all officers save nine captains, thirty-six lieuten- 
ants, and one hundred and fifty midshipmen. At about this time ground 
was purchased and navy-yards were established at Portsmouth, Boston, New 
York, Philadelphia, Washington and Norfolk, and half a million dollars were 
appropriated for the completion of six seventy-four gun ships. 

Nothing needs to be said here concerning our conflicts with the pirates 
of the Mediterranean or of the remarkable exploits of the small American 
navy in the second war with Great Britain. These have already been dealt 
with in chapters xxv. and xxvi. In the interval between that period 
and the Civil War there was little demand upon the American navy. 
The naval operations during the Mexican war were of no great importance. 
Some vessels were used in scientific exploration, and the dignity of America 
had to be asserted on some occasions, but the most important service ren- 
dered by the navy was the opening up of Japan to the commerce of the 
world. After some fruitless efforts at intercourse with the 

The Opening up j s i an d rea l m Commodore Perry was sent thither in 1852, and 
of Japan ' } . , . 

by a resolute show of force he succeeded in obtaining a treaty 

of commerce from Japan. That treaty opened Japan to the world, and was 

the first step in its remarkable recent career. 

At the beginning of the Civil War the United States was very poorly 
provided with ships of war. There were only forty-two vessels in commis- 
sion, nearly all of which were absent in distant parts of the world. Others 
were destroyed in southern ports, and for a time there was actually only 
one serviceable warship on the North Atlantic coast. This difficulty was 
soon overcome by buying and building, and by the end of 1861 there were 
264 vessels in commission, and all the ports in the South were under 
blockade. These vessels were a motley set, — ferry boats, freight steamers, 
every sort of craft — but they served to tide over the emergency. 

With all this we are not particularly concerned, but must turn our 
attention to the great naval events of the war, those conflicts which served 




REAR-ADMIRAL WILLIAM 1 SAMPSON 



A1).M1K Al i.l i iKl.l ni,H I Y 





REAR-ADMIRAL JOHN CRITTENDEN WATSON REAR-ADMIRAL W1NFIELO SCOTT SCHLEY 

LEADING COMMANDERS OF OUR NAVY IN THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR 




MAJOR-GENERAL WESI EY MERKITT. MAJUR-GENERAL WILLIAM R. SHAFTER. 

LEADING COMMANDERS OF OUR ARMY IN THE SPAN ISH -A M E R IC AN WAR 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 489 

as turning points in nineteenth century warfare. And first and greatest 

among these was the remarkable naval battle in Hampton Roads on 

March 9, 1862. 

The use of iron for plating the hulls of ships was not first adopted in 

American war. This device was employed by England and France in the 

Crimean war in attacks on the Turkish forts. The idea, however, was 

American. As early as 181 3 Colonel John Stevens, of New __ .. 

> ' J • The Idea of 

York, made plans for an ironclad ship somewhat resembling ironplating 
the Monitor in type. His son Edwin afterwards performed of American 
experiments with cannon balls against iron plate, and in 1S44 
Robert L. Stevens began the construction of a vessel to be plated with 
41^-inch iron for the government. It was never finished, though in all nearly 
$2,000,000 were spent upon it. New invention rendered it obsolete before 
it could be completed, yet to it belongs the credit of inaugurating the era 
of the ironclad navy. Alter the Crimean war France and England both 
built ironclad ships, the French La Gloire beingf the first „ 

1 ° Early Ironclads 

ironclad ever constructed. It was followed by the British of Great 

Warrior, launched in January, 1861. Yet despite this enter- Britain and 
prise, the fact remains that the first conception of an iron- 
clad ship belongs to the United States, and the first hostile meeting of two 
ironclads took place in American waters. 

At the opening of the American Civil War this idea was in the air, 
and it was soon made evident that the era of wooden warships was near its 
end. It is interesting to learn that the Confederates were the first to adopt 
the new idea, the earliest ironclad of the war being produced by them on 
the lower Mississippi. A large double-screw tugboat was employed, whose 
deck was covered with a rounded root, plated with bar iron one and a half 
inches thick. This craft — named the Manassas after the first Confederate 
victory — made its appearance at the mouth of the Mississippi on the night 

of October 31, 1S61, and created a complete panic in the 
,,,,.,, , ~, , r , . The Ironclad 

blockading tleet at that point. 1 he Manassas wrecked one "Manassas" 

of her engines in attempting to ram the flagship Richmond, 

and crept slowly back, at the same time as the alarmed fleet was hastening 

away with all speed over the waters of the gulf. 

While this event was taking place, two ironclads of more formidable 

description were being built elsewhere, the meeting of which subsequently 

was the most startling revelation to the nations of the earth ever shown in 

naval warfare. The United States steam frigate Merrimac had been set 

on fire at the Gosport Navy Yard, when hastily abandoned by the Federal 

navy officers at the outbreak of the war. It was burned to the water's 



49° THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 

edge and sunk, but soon after the Confederates raised the hull, which was 
seriously damaged — its engines being in reasonably good condition — and 
they hurriedly undertook the work of converting it into an ironclad. A 
The Plating of powerful prow of cast iron was attached to its stem, a few feet 
the"Merri= underwater and projecting sufficiently to enable it to break in 
the side of any wooden vessel. A low wooden roof two feet 
thick was built at an incline of about 36 degrees, and this was plated with i 
double iron armor, making a four-inch iron plating. Under this protection 
were mounted two broadside batteries of four guns each, and a cfun at the 
stem and stern. The government was soon advised of the raising of the hull 
of the Merrimac, and without having detailed information on the subject, knew 
that a powerful ironclad was being constructed. A board of naval officers 
had been selected by the government to consider the various suggestions 
for the construction of ironclad vessels, and although, as a rule, naval 
officers had little faith in the experiment, Congress coerced them into 
action by the appropriation of half a million dollars for the work. The 
Naval Board recommended a trial of three of the most acceptable plans 
presented, and ships on these plans were put under contract. 

Among those who pressed the adoption of light ironclads, capable of 
penetrating our shallow harbors, rivers, and bayous, was John Ericsson. 
Ericsson and He was a Swede by birth, but had long been an American 
the"noni- citizen, and exhibited uncommon genius and scientific attain- 
ments in engineering. The vessel he proposed to build was 
to be only 127 feet in length, 27 feet in width, and 12 feet deep, to be 
covered by a flat deck rising only one or two feet above water. The only 
armament of the vessel was to be a revolving turret, about 20 feet in diame- 
ter and nine feet high, made of plated wrought iron aggregating eight inches 
in thickness, with two eleven-inch Dahlgren guns. The guns were so con- 
structed that they could be fired as the turret revolved, and the port-hole 
would be closed immediately after firing. The size of the Merrimac was 
well known to the government to be quite double the length and breadth 
of the Monitor, but it had the disadvantage of requiring nearly double the 
depth of water in which to manoeuvre it. Various sensational reports were 
received from time to time of the progress made on the Merrimac, the 
name of which was changed by the Confederates to Virginia, and as there 
were only wooden hulls at Fortress Monroe to resist it, great solicitude was 
felt for the safety of the fleet and the maintenance of the blockade. While 
the government hurried the construction of the new ironclads to the 
utmost, little faith was felt that so fragile a vessel as the Monitor could 
cope with so powerful an engine of war as the Merrimac. The most 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAS' NAVY 491 

formidable vessels of the navy, including the Minnesota, the twin ship of the 
original Merrimac, the 5"/. Lawrence, the Roanoke, the Congress and tin: Cum- 
berland, were all in Hampton Rhoads waiting the advent of the Merrimac. 

On Saturday, the 8th of March, the .Merrimac appeared at the mouth 
of the Elizabeth River and steamed directly for the Federal fleet. All the 
vessels slipped cable and started to enter the conflict, but the heavier ships 
soon ran aground and became helpless. The Merrimac hurried on, and, 
after tiring a broadside at the Congress, crashed into the sides The Coming of 
of the Cumberland, whose brave men fired broadside after the •• Mer- 
broadside at their assailant only to see their balls glance from 
its mailed roof. An immense hole had been broken into the hull by the 
prow of the Merrimac. and in a very few minutes the Cu?nberland sank in 
fifty feet of water, her last gun being tired when the water had reached its 
muzzle, while the whole gallant crew went to the bottom with their flag still 
flying from the masthead. The Merrimac then turned upon the Congress, 
which was compelled to llee from such a hopeless struggle, ami was finally 
grounded near the shore:; but the Merrimac selected a position where her 
guns could rake her antagonist, and, after a bloody fight of 

1 1 ■ 1 7 1 , -11 J J 1_ !_• The Fate ° f 

more than an hour, with the commander killed and the ship the "Con- 
on fire, the Congress struck her flag, and was soon blown up sress"and 
by the explosion of her magazine. Most fortunately for the ber/nd""" 
Federal fleet, the Merrimac had not started out on its work 
of destruction until after midday. Its iron prow was broken in breaching 
the Cumberland, and, after the fierce broadsides it had received from the 
Congress and the Cumberland, with the other . tiring repeatedly 

during the hand-to-hand conflict, the Merrimac's captain was content to 
withdraw for the day, and anchor for the night under the Confederate shore 
batteries on Sewall's Point. 

The night of March 8th was one of the gloomiest periods ol the war. 
The Merrimac was sure to resume its work on the following day, and, with 
the fleet destroyed and the blockade raised, Washington, and even New 
York, might be at the mercy of this terrible engine of war. But deliverance 
was at hand. The building of the Monitor had been hurried with all 
speed, and this little vessel, — "a cheese box on a raft." as it was con- 
temptuously termed — was afloat and steaming in all haste The Mon j t0 r in 
to Hampton Roads. It entered there that night, and took up Hampton 
a position near the helpless Minnesota in bold challenge to the oa 
Merrimac. On Sunday morning, March 9th, the Confederate ironclad 
came out to finish its work of destruction, preparatory to a cruise against 
the northern ports. 



492 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 

The little Monitor steamed boldly out to meet it. The history of that 

conflict need not be repeated. To the amazement of the commander of the 

Merrimac, the Monitor was impervious to its terrible broadsides, while its 

lightness and shallow draft enabled it to out-manceuvre its 

The First Battle an t a cronist at every turn ; and while it did not fire one eun to 
of Ironclads ° . J .. . ° . 

ten from its adversary, its aim was precise and the Merrimac 

was materially worsted in the conflict. After three hours of desperate 
battle the defiant and invincible conqueror of the day before found it 
advisable to give up the contest and retreat to Norfolk. 

It was this naval conflict, and the signal triumph of the little 
Monitor, that revolutionized the whole naval warfare of the world in a 
single day, and from that time until the present the study of all nations in 
aggressive or defensive warfare has looked to the perfection of the iron- 
clad. To the people of the present time the ironclad is so familiar, and its 
discussion so common, that few recall the fact that less than fifty years ago 
'twas almost undreamed of as an important implement of war. It is notable 
ihat neither of those vessels which inaugurated ironclad warfare, and made 
it at once the accepted method for naval combat for the world, ever after- 
ward engaged in battle during the three years of war which con- 
Fate of the First j-inued. The Merrimac was feared as likely to make a new incur- 
Ironclads ... 

sion against our fleet, but her commander did not again venture 

to lock horns with the Monitor. Early in May the capture of Norfolk by 
General Wool placed the Merrimac in a position of such peril that on the 
i ith of that month she was fired by her commander and crew and abandoned, 
and soon after was made a hopeless wreck by the explosion of her magazine. 
The fate of the Monitor was even more tragic. The following December, 
when being towed off Cape Hatteras, she foundered in a gale and went to 
the bottom with part of her officers and men ; but she had taught the prac- 
ticability of ironclads in naval warfare, and when she went down a whole 
fleet was under construction after her own model, and some vessels already 
a\ active service. 

While these events were taking place in the waters of the coast, a fleet 
of ironclad boats was being built for service on the rivers of the West, seven of 
these being begun in August, 1861, by James B. Eads, the famous engineer 
of later times. These were light-draught, stern paddle-wheel river steamers, 
plated with 2^-inch iron on their sloping sides and ends. These, and 
those that followed them, saw much service in the western rivers, bombard- 
ing Forts Henry and Donelson, running through the fire of the forts on 
Island No. 10, and daring the terrible bombardment from the Vicksburg 
batteries. 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAS NAVY 493 

But the most famous event in river warfare during the conflict was the 

exploit of the daring Farragut in running past Forts St. Philip and Jackson on 

the Mississippi with his fleet of wooden vessels, breaking their iron chain. 

dispersing their gun-boats, and driving ashore the ironclad 

Manassas. The Confederates had also an ironclad battery, Far ™£ ut ° n * he 

•" Mississippi 

the Louisiana, but it proved of little service, and Farragut 

sailed triumphantly through the hail of (ire of the forts, and on the same 

afternoon reached the wharves of New Orleans. 

The most famous exploit of Farragut was the passing of the forts at 
Mobile. It is worth a brief relation, for in this the resources of ironclad 
warfare, as then developed, were fully employed, while the bottom of the 
channel was thickly sown with torpedoes, a mechanism in naval warfare; to 
become of great importance in the following years. Farragut's main fleet, 
indeed, was of wooden ships, but he had four monitors ; while the Con- 
federates, in addition to their forts and gunboats, had the ironclad ram Ten- 
nessee, the most powerful floating battery ever built by them. This form- 
idable craft — for that period — was plated with six inch iron armor in front 
and five inch elsewhere ; and, while carrying only six guns, these were 6- and 
8-inch rifled cannon. 

The torpedoes, of which no fewer than 180 were sown in the channel, 
were not quite ineffective, since one of them exploded under the monitor 
Tccumseh, and she went down head first with nearly all her crew. The 
Brooklyn, following in her track, halted as this disaster was 
seen, her recoil checking all the vessels in her rear. Farragut theTorpedoes 
had taken his famous stand in the shrouds, just under the 
maintop, and hailed the Brooklyn as he came up in the Hartford. " What 
is the matter?" he demanded. "Torpedoes," came back the reply. " Damn 
the torpedoes ! " cried Farragut, in a burst of noble anger. "Follow me." 
As the Hartford passed on the percussion caps of the torpedoes were heard 
snapping under her keel. Fortunately they were badly made, and no other 
explosion took place. 

The story of the battle we may briefly complete. The ships dashed 
almost unharmed through the fire of the forts, driving the Confederate gun- 
ners from their pieces with a shower of grape and canister ; and the contest 
ended with an attack upon the Tennessee, whose stern-port shutters were 
jammed and her steering gear shot away. Rendered helpless, she was 
forced to surrender, and the fight was at an end. 

The Confederates were singularly unfortunate with their ironclads. With 
the exception of the temporary advantage gained by the Merrimac, all their 
labor and expense proved of no avail. The last of these war-monsters, 



494 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NA VY 

the Albemarle, built in Roanoke River, and causing some alarm in the 

blockading fleet on the coast, was sent to the bottom by a daring young 

officer, Lieutenant dishing, in one of the most gallant exploits of the war. 

. He and a few men, in a steam launch carrying a large torpedo, 

Cushing and sailed up the stream at night to where the ironclad lay in her 

the"A!be= dock at Plymouth. A protecting raft of logs guarded the 

Albemarle, but Cushing daringly drove his launch up on the 

slimy logs, exploded the torpedo as it touched the sides of the ship, and 

leaped with his men into the stream. The Albemarle sank to a muddy bed 

in the river's bottom, and Cushing escaped to the blockading fleet, after a 

series of thrilling adventures. 

But the most important thing achieved in this war was the entire trans- 
formation effected in naval science. Previously the warship had been of the 
type of an armed merchantship, propelled by sails or, latterly, by steam, and 
carrying a large number of small guns. Modern inventiveness made it, after 
the duel of the Monitor and Merrimac ; a floating fortress of iron 

e ype o t e Qr stee i carr yj ng r a few enormously heavy guns. The glory 

New Navies . . . . 

of the old line-of-battle ship, with three or four tiers of guns 

on each side and a big cloud of canvas overhead, firing rattling broadsides, 
and manoeuvring to get and hold the weather-gauge of the enemy — all that 
was relegated to the past forever. In its place came the engine of war, 
with little pomp and circumstance, but with all the resources of science shut 
within its ugly, black iron hull. 

John Paul Jones, with his Bon Homme Richard, struck the blow that 
made universal the law of neutrals' rights. Hull, with the Constitution, 
sending a British frigate to the bottom, showed what Yankee ingenuity in 
sighting guns could do. Ericsson and Worden, with the Monitor, sent 
wooden navies to the hulk-yard and ushered in the era of iron and steel 
fighting-engines. These were the great naval events of a century. 

Yet the American navy was greatly neglected in the years succeeding the 
Civil War, while foreign nations, quick to learn the lesson taught at Hampton 
Roads, were straining every nerve to build powerful fleets of iron and 
steelclad ships, and to develop the breech-loading rifled cannon into an 
Beginning of the implement of war capable of piercing through many inches 
Modern Am- of solid steel. It was not until after 1880 that our govern- 
encan et ment awoke to the need of a navy on the new lines, and 
began to take advantage of the lessons that had been learned abroad. It 
is not our purpose to speak in detail of the results. The steelclad battle- 
ship and cruiser, the armor-piercing breech-loader, the quick-firing gun, the 
machine gun, the submarine torpedoboat, the anchored mine, the auto- 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 495 

mobile torpedo, and other devices have come to make the naval warfare of 
our day a wonderfully different thing from that of the past. 

The: United Stat bi \,w late to build a modern navy, but has made 
highly encouraging progress, ami while still far in the rear of Great Britain 
and France in the number of her ships, possesses some of the finest 
examples of naval architecture now afloat upon the waters. The . lCo | um= 
Amonir commerce-destroyers the Columbia and the Minnea- bia"andthc 
polls, with their respective trial speeds of 22. Si and 23.07 "ilinnea- 
knots, stand beyond any rivals to-day in the navies of Euro] 
while the inventive naval engineering of the Americans is exemplified in 
the double turrets of the Kearsarge and Kentucky, two addition, to our 
navy of original formation, and likely to give an excellent account of them- 
selves should any new war occur. 

Of modern fleets, however, far the most powerful one is that of Great 
Britain, the eovernment of which island shows a fixed determination to 
keep its naval force beyond rivalry. This stupendous tleet forms the most 
striking example of naval destructiveness the world has ever The Powerful 
seen, and the nations of the world are entering the twentieth fleet of Great 
century with powers of warfare developed enormously beyond 
those with which they -entered the nineteenth. We can only hope that this 
vast development both in army and navy may prove to exert a peace-compel- 
ling influence, and that every new discovery in the art of killing and destroy- 
ing may be a nail in the coffin of Mars, the god of war. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

America's Conflict With Spain. 

A THIRD of a century passed after the great struggle of the United 
States for the existence of the Union, and then, in almost the closing 

year of the nineteenth century, came another war, this time fought in 
the interests of humanity. It was not a war for gain or conquest ; the 
thought of territorial acquisition did not enter into the motives leading to 
it, despite the fact that this country gained new territory as one of its 
A War in the results ; in its inception humane feeling, the sentiment of 
Cause of sympathy with the oppressed and starving people of Cuba, 

Humanity a l one prevailed, and the nineteenth century fitly reached its 
end with a war entered into for humanity's sake alone, it being one of the 
very few instances in the history of the world in which a nation has gone to 
war from purely philanthropic motives. 

It is not necessary here to repeat the story of Spain's tyranny in Cuba. 
It is too well known to need telling again, and simply carried out the 
colonial policy of Spain from the time of the discovery of America. The 
successful rebellion of her colonies on the American continent failed to teach 
that country the lesson which England learned from a similar occurrence, 
and in Cuba was continued the same system of tyranny and official 
oppression which had driven the other colonies to revolt. The result was 
the same, Cuba blazed into rebellion, and for years war desolated that fair 
island. 

The United States, however, sedulously avoided taking any part in the 
affair until absolutely driven to interfere by the horrible inhumanity 
displayed by Captain-General Weyler. It was the awful policy of " recon- 
centration " that stretched the forbearance of the people of this country to 
the breaking point. Not content with fighting the rebels in 
General Weyler arms t ^ Druta i Weyler extended the war against the people 

and His Policy ' J ... 

in their homes, burning their houses, destroying the crops in 

their fields, driving them in multitudes into the cities and towns, and holding 
them there in the most pitiable destitution and misery until they died by 
thousands the terrible death of starvation. It was not until word came to 
this country that not less than 200,000 of the helpless people had perished 
496 




SI \"< >R M< >N 1'KRi) RH >S 

President of the Spanish Peace Commission whose painful 

duty required liiin to sign away his country's 

colonial possessions. 



i NERAL RAMON BLANCO 

Who succeeded Weyler as Captain-General of Cuba in i8y^ 

He was formerly I oi the 

Philippine Islands. 




ADMIRAL CERVERA 
Commander of Spanish Fleet at Santiagr 



SAC, AST A 
premier of Spain during the Spanish-American Wa 




GENERAL JOSEPH WHEELER 



RICHMOND PEARSON HOBSON 




THEODORE ROOSEVELT MAJOR-GENERAL ELWELL S. OTIS 

POPULAR HEROES OF THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR 



AMERICA 'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN 490 

in this horrible manner, and that there seemed no hope of alleviation of the 
frightful situation, that there arose a general demand for the govern- 
ment to interfere. Spain was asked to fix a date in which the war should 
be brought to an end, with the intimation that if the contest was not con- 
cluded or the independence of the island conceded by that date, this country 
would feel obliged to take decisive st< 

No satisfactory answer was received, and anticipations of war filled all 
minds, though many hoped that this dread ultimatum might be avoided, 
when, in the last week of January, 1898, the battleship Manic was ordered 
to proceed from Key West to the harbor of Havana. Her visit was 
ostensibly a friendly one, but there had been riots in Havana which imperilled 
the safety of American residents, to whom the Spanish inhabitants of that 
city were bitter!)- hostile, and it was felt that some show of force in that 
harbor was imperative. 

A terrible disaster succeeded. In one fatal instant, on the night of 

February 15th, the noble ship was hurled to destruction and her crew into 

eternity. This frightful (-vent took place about 9.45 in the evening, while 

the ship lay quietly at anchor in the place selected for her by the Spanish 

authorities. Intense darkness prevailed in the harbor, Captain 

Sigsbee was writing- in his cabin, the men were in their quar- * ,?J n ?°,. 
» & ' 1 the " Maine 

ters below, when of a sudden came a terrible explosion that 
tore the vessel asunder and killed most of her crew. So violent was the 
shock that the whole water-front of the city was shaken as by an earthquake, 
telegraph poles were thrown down and the electric lights extinguished. The 
wrecked vessel sank quickly into the mud of the harbor's bottom, and a 
great flame broke from her upper works that illuminated the whole harbor. 
Of three hundred and fifty-three men in the ship's company only forty-eight 
escaped unhurt, and the roll-call of the dead in the end reached two hun- 
dred and sixty-six. 

This terrible event was the immediate cause of the war. It intensified 
the feeling of the people and of their representatives in Congress to such 
an extent that no other solution of the difficulty now seemed possible. The 
popular indignation was increased when the court of inquiry announced that, 
in its opinion, "the Maine was destroyed by a submarine mine." It was 
universally felt that the disaster was another instance ol Span- 
ish malignity, the war-fever redoubled, and Congress unani- '^war™ 
mously voted an appropriation of $50,000,000 " for the national 
defense." The War and Navy Departments hummed with the activity of 
recruiting, the preparations of vessels and coast defenses, and the purchase 
of war material and vessels at home, while agents were sent to Europe to 



5 oo AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN 

procure all the warships that could be purchased. Unlimited capital was 
at their command, and the question of price was not an obstacle. When 
hostilities impended the United States was unprepared for war, but by 
amazing- activity, energy and skill the preparations were pushed and com- 
pleted with a rapidity that approached the marvelous. 

Negotiations went on, it is true, but they were principally with the 
purpose of gaining time to permit American citizens to leave Cuba. Con- 
sul-general Lee left Havana on April nth, and on the same day President 
McKinley sent a message to Congress in which he described in earnest 
terms the situation in Cuba, reciting the dreadful results of Weyler's heart- 
less policy and asking for power to intervene. " In the name of humanity, 
in the name of civilization," he said, " the war in Cuba must stop." On 
April 1 8th, Congress responded with a series of resolutions that were vir- 
tually a declaration of war, and on the 2 2d war actually began, 
the fleet which had gathered at Key West being despatched 
to Cuba with orders to blockade Havana and some other leading ports. 
On the following day a call was issued for 125,000 volunteers to serve in 
the coming conflict. 

While it seems important to give the preliminary events that led to the 
war, we do not propose to tell the story of the war itself, but to confine our- 
selves to a description of its more important incidents, in accordance with the 
plan of this work. It may be said here, however, that the war was in great 
part a naval one, and gave rise to naval operations of intense interest and 
great importance, so that this chapter will fitly round out the preceding one, 
which deals with the progress in naval warfare during the century. We 
there described the contests of ironclad ships during the Civil War. In 
other chapters have been told the stories of the fight between Austrian and 
Italian ironclads at the battle of Lissa and of the Japanese and Chinese 
Progress in ironclad fleets at the battle of the Yalu. We have now to tell 

Naval War. the final events in naval warfare of the century, the epoch- 
making contest in Manila Bay, and the desperate flight and 
fight off Santiago harbor. If these examples of ocean warfare be contrasted 
with those between the Constellation and the French frigates L Insurgente 
and Vengecmce a century before, they will place in striking clearness the 
immense advance in naval warfare within the hundred years involved. 

Of these two events the greatest was that which took place in Manila 
Bay. War, it must be remembered, is governed by a different system of 
ethics from that operative in peace. Though inhumanity in Cuba was the 
cause of the war, to strike the enemy wherever he could be found was the 
demand of prudence and military science. Spain had an important posses- 




THE UNITED STATES PEACE COMMISSIONERS OF THE SPANISH WAR. 

Appointed September g, iSq8. Met Spanish Commissioners at Paris, October ist. Treaty of Peace signed by the Con 
missioners at Paris, December ioth. Ratified by the United States Senate at Washington, February 6, 1899. 



AM ERIC. 1\S C \ )NFL /( T U 7 III SI '.UN 503 

sion in the eastern seas, the Philippine Islands, off the southeastern coast of 
Asia. There, in the bay of Manila, near the large city of that name, lay a 
Spanish fleet, which, if left unmolested, might seek our Pacific Coast and 1 1 'in- 
tuit terrible depredations. In the harbor of I long Kong la) 

, r a • 1 1 /- 1 i '■> T ,c Mission of 

squadron of American war-vessels under Commodore Dewey. Dewey 

Prudence dictated but one course under the circumstano 
There was flashed to Dewey under sea and over land the telegraphic mes- 
sage to "find the Spanish fleet and capture or destroy it." How Dewey 
obeyed this order is the circumstance with which we are now concerned. 

He lost no time. Leaving port in China on April 27th. he arrived off 
the entrance to Manila Bay on the night of the 30th. An island lay in the 
neck of the bay, with well-manned batteries on its shores. It was probable 
that torpedoes had been planted in the channel. Put George Dewey had 
been a pupil of Farragut in the Civil War, and was inspired now Dewey 
with the spirit of that hero's famous order, " Damn the tor- lintered 
pedoes! Follow me !" Past Corregidor Island in the dark- Mani,a IJay 
ness glided the great ships, several of them being out of range of its 
batteries before the alarm was taken. Then some shots were find, but the 
return fire from the squadron silenced the Spanish guns and the ships 
passed safely into Manila Bay. 

About five o'clock on the morning of May 1st Dewey's fleet swept in 
battle-line past the front of the city of Manila, and soon after rounded up 
in face of the Spanish fleet, which extended across the mouth of Bakoor 
Bay, within which lay the naval station of Cavite. There were ten <>t the 
Spanish ships in all, with shore batteries to add to their defensive force, 
while the effective American ships consisted of six, the cruisers Olympia, 
Baltimore, Raleigh, Boston, and the gunboats Petrel and Concord. The 
Spaniards had two large and four small cruisers, three gunboats and an 
armed transport. They were not equal in size or weight of metal to the 
American vessels, but their fixed position, their protection 
by shore batteries, and the acquaintance of their officers with e Opposing 
the waters in which they la}- gave them an important advan- 
tage over the Americans, which was added to by their possession of tor] 
boats and by the mines which they had planted in the track of an attacking 
fleet. Dewey and his men were, in fact, in a position of great peril, and if 
the Spaniards knew how to work their guns none ol them might leave that 
bay alive. Fortunately for them the Spaniards did not know how to work 
their stains. 

On swept the gallant squadron of assault, the Olympia leading with 
Dewey on the bridge. He had a look-out place protected by steel armor, 



504 AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN 

but he preferred to stand in the open and dare all peril from the Spanish 
guns. The mines were there. As the flagship drove onward two of them 
exploded in her path. Luckily the nervous hands at the electric wires 
set them off too soon. Heedless of such perils as this Dewey pursued his 
course, and at 5.40 a.m. opened fire, followed by the remainder of his ships. 
Th D di From that moment the fire was deadly and continuous, the 

Work of the boom of the great guns seconded by the rattle of the rapid fire 

American pieces until the air seemed full of the roar of ordnance. The 

Spanish returned as hot a fire, but by no means so effective. 

While most of their shot were wasted on the waves, the bulk of those from 

the American ships found a goal, and death and destruction reigned in the 

Spanish ships while their opponents moved on almost unharmed. 

Back and forth across the Spanish lines swept Dewey's ships, 
five times in all, at first at 5,000 yards distance, then drawing in to 
a distance of 2,000 yards. And during all this time the great guns 
roared their message and the small guns poured out their fiery hail, rending 
the Spanish hulls and carrying death to their crews, while the flames 
that shot up from their decks told that another element of destruction was 
at work. Early in the fight two torpedo boats darted out towards the 
Olympia, but were met with a torrent of fire that sent one to the bottom 
and drove the other hastily to the beach. Then, with an instinct of despera- 
tion, Admiral Montojo drove gallantly out in his flagship, the Reina Chris- 
The Fate of the tina, with the purpose of engaging the Olympia at shorter 

Spanish Flag- range. At once Dewey turned his entire battery upon her, 
and poured in shot and shell at such a frightful rate that the 
Spaniard hastily turned and fled for the shelter of Bakoor Bay. But the 
deadly baptism of fire with which she had been met proved the end of her 
career. Swept from stern to stem by shells as she fled, she burst into flames, 
which continued to burn until she sank to a muddy death. 

Meanwhile the Spanish ships and batteries returned the fire vigorously, 
but with singular lack of effect. While they were being riddled and sunk, 
the American ships escaped almost unhurt, and while hundreds of 
The Destruction tne ' r crews fell dead or wounded, not an American -was 

of the Spanish killed and seven men alone were slightly wounded. What 
little skill in aiming the Spaniards possessed was utterly dis- 
concerted by the incessant and deadly American fire, and their balls and 
shells screamed uselessly through the air to plunge into the waves. 

At the hour of 7.35 Dewey withdrew from the fight, that he might see 
how all things stood on his ships and give the men an interval of rest and 
an opportunity for breakfast. He knew very well that the Spaniards must 



. \MERK : VS Ci WFL/CT Willi Sl>. UN 505 

await his return. Fight and flight were alike taken out of them. When 
he came back to the attack, shortly after 1 1 o'clock, nearly all the Spanish 
ships were in flames and some rested on the bottom of the bay. For an 
hour longer the firing continued on both sides. At the end of that time the 
batteries were silenced and the ships sunk, burned, and deserted. The 
great battle was at an end, and Dewey had made himself the hero of 
the war. 

When the news of the result reached Europe, the naval [lowers of the 
nations heard with utter astonishment of the fighting prowess and skill of 
the Yankees. Anything so complete in the way of a naval victory the 
century had not seen before, and it was everywhere recognized that a new 
power had to be dealt with in the future counsels of the nations. Americans, 
previously looked upon almost with contempt from a mili- Howthe Nation 
tary point of view, suddenly won respect, and Dewey took Rewarded 
rank among the great ocean fighters of the century. His ewey 
nation hastened to honor him with the title of rear-admiral, and finally with 
that of admiral, its highest naval dignity, and on his return home in autumn 
of the following year he was received with an ovation such as few Americans 
had ever been given before. To his fellow citizens he was one of the chief 
of their heroes, and they could not do him honor enough. 

The second notable naval event of which we have spoken took place off 
the harbor of Santiago, a city on the southern coast of Cuba, at a date after 
that just described. 

The finest fleet possessed by Spain, that under the command of Admiral 
Cervera, consisted of four cruisers, the Christobal Colon, plated with a 
complete belt of 6-inch nickel steel, and with a deck armor of steel 2 to 6 
inches thick , ami the Vizcaya, the Almirante Oquendo, and the Infanta Maria- 
Teresa, each of 6890 tons, with 10- to 12-inch armor and power- The Fleet of 
ful armament. They were all of high speed, and were the Admiral Cer- 
only vessels of which any dread was felt in the United States. 
With them were three torpedo boats, the Tenor, the Furor and the Tin/on, 
among the best of their class, and dangerous enemies to deal with. 

This (leet lay in the Cape Verde Islands at the opening of the war. 
From there, in May, it set sail, causing doubt and dread in American coast 
cities while its destination remained unknown, and yielding relief when the 
news came that it had reached some of the lower islands of the West 
Indies. On May 21st it was learned that the dreaded squadron had reached 
Santiago and was safely at anchor in its harbor. 

The Atlantic fleet of the United States meanwhile had been partly 
engaged in blockading the Cuban ports, partly in searching for Cervera's 
38 



506 AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN 

fleet, and there was a decided sensation of relief when the tidings from 
Santiago were confirmed. Thither from all quarters the great ships of the 
The Spanish ^ eet hastened at full speed, battleships, cruisers, monitors, gun- 
Fleet at San- boats, and craft of other kinds, and soon they hung like grim 
birds of war off the harbor's mouth, determined that the 
Spanish fleet should never leave that place of refuge except to meet 
destruction. To the battleships of the fleet was soon added the Oregon, 
which had made an admirable journey of many thousand miles around the 
continent of South America, and barely touched land in Florida before it 
was off again to take part in the great blockade. 

The story that follows is, if given in all its details, a long one, but we 
must confine ourselves to its salient points. Admiral Sampson, in command 
of the American fleet, at first sought to lock up the Spaniards in their 
harbor of refuge, by sinking a coaler, the Merrimac, in the narrow channel of 
Santiago Bay. The work was gallantly and ably done by Lieutenant Hob- 
The Sinking of son an( ^ ms daring crew, but proved a failure through causes 
the"Merri- beyond his control. The Merrimac sank lengthwise in the 
channel, and the passage remained open. This being recog- 
nized, the most vigilant watch was kept up, battle-ships, cruisers, and gun- 
boats lying off the harbor's mouth in a wide semicircle, with their lookouts 
ever closely on the watch. 

On the morning of Sunday, July 3d, the long-looked for alarm came, 
in a yell from the sentinel on the Brooklyn, "There is a big ship coming 
out of the harbor !" A like alarm was given on other ships, and Commodore 
Schley, on the Brooklyn, hastened to signal the fleet and to give the order, 
" Clear ship for action." Almost in an instant the lazily swinging fleet 
awoke to life and activity, and the men sprang from their listless Sunday 
rest into the most enthusiastic readiness for duty. 

Admiral Sampson, unfortunately for him, was absent, having gone up 
the coast in the cruiser New York, and the direction of affairs fell to Com- 
modore Schley. He was capable of meeting the emergency. It was soon 
The Flight of evident that Cervera's fleet was coming out, the flagship, 
the Spanish Bifanta Maria Teresa, in the lead, the others following. On 
Sh,ps clearing the harbor headland they turned west, and the Amer- 

icans at once set out in pursuit, firing as they went. " Full speed ahead ; 
open fire, and don't waste a shot," shouted Schley. The Oregon had 
already opened fire from her great 13-inch guns, and was followed by the 
battleships Texas, Indiana, and Iowa. The Brooklyn joined in with her 8- 
and 5-inch batteries, and soon a rain of shells was pouring upon the devoted 
fugitive ships. The Maria Teresa ran towards the Bi-ooklyn as if with 



AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN 507 

intention to ram her, but the danger was avoided by a quick swerve of the 
helm, and Cervera's flagship turned again and sped away in flight. 

The fugitive ships soon found them ielves the centre of the most terrific 
fire any war vessels had ever endured, with the exception of AHotchase 
those at Manila. Big guns and little guns joined in the fright- Down the 
ful concert, shot after shot telling, while the response of the Cuban Coast 
Spaniards was little more effective than that of their compatriots in Manila 
Bay. One man killed on the Brooklyn was the sole loss of life on the 
American side, while the unfortunate Spaniards were swept down by hun- 
dreds. 

The first ship to succumb to this hail of shells was the Mafia Teresa, which 

quickly burst into flames, and soon alter ran ashore. Then the Brooklyn, 

Oregon and Indiana concentrated their lire on the Almirante Oquendo, 

which was similarly beached in flames. Next the Vizcaya drew abeam of 

the Iowa, which turned its fire from the Oquendo to this new quarry, pour- 

rng in shells that tore great rents in her side, while the Vizcaya tired back 

hotly but uneffectively. As the Spaniard drew ahead of the 

•, the fire of the Oregon and Texas reached her. and ™ e Fate .° f | th f 
' s Spanish fleet 

an 8-inch shell from the Brooklyn raked her fore and aft. The 

next moment a great shell exploded in her interior, killing eight}- men. She 

was clearly out of the race, and ran in despair for the beach. 

Meanwhile the Christobal Colon was running at great speed along the 
beach, pursued by the American ships. Of these the Oregon and Brooklyn 
alone were able to keep within hopeful distance. For an hour the chase 
kept up, then the Oregon tried a 13-inch shell, which struck the water close 
astern of the Colon, four miles away. Another was tried and reached its 
mark. Soon after a shell from the Brooklyn pierced the Colon at the top 
of her armor belt. Then she too gave up and ran for the beach, Admiral 
Sampson, on the New York, reaching the scene in time only to receive the 
surrender of her officers. 

Perhaps the most telling work of the day was that done by the little 
Gloucester, a vacht turned into a gunboat, which was commanded by 
Richard Wainwright, one of the surviving officers of the The " Glouces- 
Maine. Two torpedo-boat destroyers had followed the Span- ter"and Her 
ish ships from the harbor, and these were gallantly attacked 
and sunk by Wainwright in his little craft, thus finally disposing of the 
second Spanish fleet with which the Yankees came into contact. 

The annals of naval history record no more complete destruction of an 
enemy's fleet than in the two cases we have described, and never has such 



5 o8 AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN 

work been done with so little loss — only one man being killed and a few 
wounded in both American fleets. It taught the world a new 

The Lesson of j esson j n tne art of naval warfare, and admonished the 
the War 

nations that the United States was a power to be gravely con- 
sidered in the future in any question of war. 

We have told the only incidents of this short war with which we are 
concerned. In the conflict on land there was nothing of special character. 
An American army landed near Santiago and fought its fight to a quick finish 
in the capture of that city; and a similar story is to be told of Manila; 
while the attempted conquest of Porto Rico was cut short in the middle by 
the signing of a peace protocol. In December a treaty of peace was signed 
in which Spain abandoned her colonies of Cuba and Porto Rico, the latter 
being ceded to the United States, while the Philippine Islands, the scene of 
Dewey's great victory, were likewise ceded to this country. The latter, 
however, was not to the pleasure of the island people, who took up arms to 
fieht for freedom from the dominion of the whites. 

Brief as was the war, it had the effect of radically changing the posi- 
tion of the United States, which for the first time in its history became a 

„ ., . x colonial power, and acquired an interest in that troublesome 

The United r l 

States Made Eastern Question which reached, at the end of the century, 

a Colonial a highly critical stage. Into what complication this new 

political relation is likely to lead the republic of the West 

it is impossible to say, but this country will certainly play its part in the 

shaping of the future destiny of the East. 



CHAPTER XXXV 

The Dominion of Canada. 

OCCUPYING the northern section of the western hemisphere lies 
Great Britain's most. extended colony, the vast Dominion of Canada, 
which covers an immense area of the earth's surface, surpassing 
that of the United States, and nearly equal to the whole of Europe. Its 
population, however, is not in accordance with its dimensions, being less 
than 5,000,000, while the hleak and inhospitable character of The Area and 
much the greater part of its area is likely to debar it from Population of 
ever having any other than a scanty nomad population, fur 
animals being its principal useful product. It is, however, always unsafe 
to predict. The recent discovery of gold in a part of this region, that 
traversed by the Klondike River, has brought miners by the thousands to 
that wintry realm, and it would be very unwise to declare that the remainder 
of the great northern region contains no treasures for the craving hands 
of man. 

It is the development of Canada during the nineteenth century with 
which we are here concerned, and we must confine ourselves, as in the case 
of the other countries treated, to its salient points, those upon which the 
problem of its progress turns. First settled by the French in the seven- 
teenth century, this country came under British control in 1703, as a result 
of the great struggle between the two active colonizing powers for domi- 
nion in America. The outcome of this conquest is the fact 

. Canada's Early 

that Canada, like the other colonies of Great Britain, possi History 

a large alien population, in this case of French origin ; and it 
may further be said that the conflict between EngHnd and France in 
America is not yet at an end. since political warfare, varied by an occasional 
act of open rebellion, has been maintained throughout the century by the 
French Canadians. 

The revolution of 1775 in the colonies to the south failed to gain adhe- 
rents in Canada, which remained loyal to Great Britain and repelled every 
attempt to invade its territory. It met invasion in the war of 1812 in the 
same spirit, and despite the fact that there has long been a party favoring 

5°9 



5 io THE DOMINION OF CANADA 

annexation to the United States, the Canadians as a whole are to-day 
among the most loyal colonial subjects of the home government of Great 
Britain. 

At the opening of the nineteenth century the population of Canada 
was small, and its resources were only slightly developed. Its people did not 
reach the million mark until about 1840, though since then the tide of 
immigration has flowed thither with considerable strength and the popula- 
tion has grown with some rapidity. In 1 791 the original province of Quebec 
was divided into Upper and Lower Canada, a political separation which by 
no means gave satisfaction, but led to severe political conflicts. As a result 
an act of union took place, the provinces being reunited in 1S40. 

Upper Canada, at the opening of the century, was only slightly devel- 
oped, the country being a vast forest, without towns, without roads, and 
practically shut out from the remainder of the world. The 
Lower Canada s P arse population endured much suffering, which, in 1788, 
deepened into a destructive famine, long remembered as a 
terrible visitation. But it began to grow with the new century, numbers 
crossed the Niagara River from the States to the fertile lands beyond, 
immigrants crossed the waters from Great Britain and France, Toronto 
was made the capital city, and the population of the province soon rose to 
30,000 in number. Lower Canada, however, with its old cities of Quebec 
and Montreal, and its flourishing settlements along the St. Lawrence River, 
continued the most populous section of the country, though its people were 
almost exclusively of French origin. The strength of the British population 
lay in the upper province. 

These historical particulars are desirable as a statement of the position 

and relations of Canada at the opening of the nineteenth century, though 

in the succeeding history of the country only an occasional event occurred 

of sufficiently striking character to fit into our plan. We have already 

detailed the events of the war or 18 12 on the Canada frontier, in which the 

capture and burning of York (now Toronto) served as an excuse for the 

subsequent indefensible burning of Washington by the British. Battles 

were fought on Canadian soil in 18 14 at Chippewa and Lundy's Lane — the 

latter the bloodiest battle of the war. But though the Ameri- 
The War of !8i2 .... . & , 

cans were victorious in these engagements, they soon after 
withdrew from Canada — to which they have never since returned in a hostile 
way. Many political complications have arisen between the two countries, 
and at times sharp words have been spoken, but all the questions have been 
amicably settled and the two countries remain fairly good friends, with only 
such disputes as too close neighborhood is apt to provoke. 



THE DOMINION OF CANADA 5 „ 

The leader of public opinion in Canada during the three years' struggle 
with the United States was a clergyman of the English church John 
Strachan, rector of York. Though a clergyman of the English establish- 
ment, Strachan was by birth a Scotchman, and a decidedly pugnacious and 
determined character, a man of courage, persistence, cunning and political 

skill, whose ambition drove him forward, until, with his party, , . „. 

' . John Strachan 

he formed in 1820 what was long known as the " Family and the 
Compact," which for years ruled the country in an autocratic Family Com- 
way. The governor and council were the tools of Strachan 
and his allies ; they filled the public offices with their favorites, and went so 
far as to drive Robert Gourlay, an honest and capable business man, from 
the country, because he was so presumptuous as to reflect on the character 
of their administration. 

In 1824 their power was for a time overturned. William Lyon 
Mackenzie, a Scotchman of impetuous disposition, started the Colonial 
Idvocate newspaper, which opposed the "Compact" so vigorously as to 
arou ;e the hatred of its adherents. The office of the .Idvocate was gutted 
by a mob, but Mackenzie recovered large damages, an opposition Assembly 
was elected, and the Family Compact fell from power. Strachan however, 
was only temporarily defeated. A religious quarrel arose 
which lasted for thirty years, and in which he played the leading A q^^™* 
part. This turned upon the use of what was known as the 
"clergy reserve fund," an allotment of one-seventh of the crown lands for 
the support of a Protestant clergy. A portion of this fund was demanded 
by a Scotch Presbyterian congregation, but Strachan, who had a controlling 
voice in its disposition, claimed it all for the English Established Church, and 
entered into this new fight with all his old energy. He gained strong sup- 
port, was promoted to the dignity of a bishop, founded King's College from 
part of the fund, and, in 1853 obtained a transfer of the fund — which had been 
placed at the disposal of the British Parliament for religious purposes — to 
Canada. The controversy was finally settled in 1854. an act being passed 
which secured their life interests to the clergy already enjoying them, while 
the remainder of the fund was devoted to public education. 

Thus for forty years and more John Strachan made himself the most 
prominent and powerful figure in Upper Canada. Meanwhile a strained 
condition of affairs existed in Lower Canada, due to the rivalry and struggle 
for power of the inhabitants of French ami British descent. The strife 
became so intense as in 1837 to lead to open rebellion. 

The great supremancy of the French in numbers gave them a decided 
majority in the Assembly, and for years Louis Papineau was elected by 



^2 THE DOMINION OF CANADA 

them speaker of that body, though bitterly opposed by the British popula- 
tion. When Lord Dalhousie, the governor-general, refused to recognize 
him in this position, sufficient influence was brought to bear upon the home 

u c -„~ o-overnment to have the autocratic lord transferred to India, 
t-rench suprem- & 

acy in Lower and the French retained their control of the Assembly. A 
Canada reform in the government of the province was recommended 

by a committe of the British Parliament, which resulted in 1832 in giving 
the Assembly control of the local finances. 

This gave the French Canadians a perilous power, and they endeavored 
to rid themselves of the English judges and civil officials by a process of 
financial starvation. Salaries were unpaid and the government was blocked 
through lack of funds. The sharpness of the strife was added to by resolu- 
tions in the British Parliament which condemned the Canadian legislature 
and supported the council — an arbitrary body under the governor's control, 
and in the British interest. 

The strife eventually deepened into revolt. Both provinces vigorously 

demanded that the council should be chosen by the votes of the people, and 

thus truly represent the country. Lower Canada became violently excited 

on this question ; funds known as " Papineau tribute " were collected ; the 

liberty cap was worn ; imported goods were replaced by homespun clothes, 

and military training soon began. These movements were followed by 

hostile acts, the English "Constitutionalists" and the French " Sons of 

Liberty " coming into warlike contact. But Sir John Colborne, the governor, 

was a man of energy and decision, and quickly brought the 

The Revolt of incipient rebellion to an end. The insurgents were attacked 
1837 

and dispersed wherever they showed themselves, Dr. Nelson, 

one of their leaders, was captured, and Papineau, the head of the revolt, was 

obliged to escape across the border. 

This movement in Lower Canada was accompanied by a similar revolt 
in Uppei Canada under the leadership of William Lyon Mackenzie, the 
former opponent of the Family Compact. He, as a leader of the opposition 
forces, had continued bitterly to oppose the oligarchy which controlled 
Canadian affairs. Three times he was elected to the Assembly of Upper 
Canada, and three times expelled by the tyrannical majority. The law 
officers of Great Britain pronounced his expulsion illegal, and he was re- 
elected by a large majority, but the arbitrary Assembly again refused to 
admit him. 

The result of this unlawful action was to make him highly popular, he 
was elected the first mayor of Toronto, and the struggle went on more 
bitterly than ever. An unlucky expression he had used — " The baneful 






THE DOMINION OF CANADA 



513 



domination of the mother country" — was now quoted against him as 
evidence of disloyalty, and Mackenzie, exasperated by the acts of his 
enemies, lost his self-control and entered into rebellion, lie made a com- 
pact with Louis Papineau to head a rising in Toronto on the 

same day with the insurgent rising in Montreal. In furtherance ^ c L e 1, z . ies 
3 & & _ Rebellion 

of this he proclaimed a "Provisional Government of the 
State of Upper Canada," gathered a force of eight hundred men, and 
threatened Toronto with capture. But hesitation was fatal to his cause, 
his men were attacked and dispersed, and he was forced to flee. On Navy 
Island he flung the flag of rebellion to the breeze, but he had lost his one 
opportunity and the flag soon went down. Lack of prudence and patience 
had put an end to a promising political career. 

The suppression of this rebellion was followed in 1840 by the Act of 
Union of the two provinces already mentioned. The population now b 
to grow with considerable rapidity. From about 1,100,000 in 1S40, it grew 
to nearly 2,000,000 in 1850, and 2,500.000 in i860. Anil the (jrowth of 
people were spreading out widely northward and westward, Population 
settling new lands, and stretching far towards the Pacific an n Ub ry 
border. The industries of Canada, which had been greatly depressed by 
the adoption of free trade in Great Britain, were revived by a treaty of 
reciprocity in trade with the United States, and prosperity came upon the 
country in a flood. 

But political troubles were by no means at an end, and much irritation 
arose from acts of citizens of the United States during the Civil War. 
Refugees and conspirators from the south sought the Canadian cities, and 
endeavored to involve the two countries in hostile relations. Fenian raids 
were attempted from the United States, and there was much alarm, though 
nothing of importance arose from the disturbed condition of affairs. 

In time the confederation which existed between the two larger pro- 
vinces of Canada became too narrow to serve the purposes of the entire 
colony. The maritime provinces began to discuss the question of local 
federation, and it was finally proposed to unite all British North America 
into one general union. This was done in 1S67, the British Parliament 
passing an act which created the "Dominion ol Canada." organization of 
The new confederation included Ontario (Upper Canada), the Dominion 
Quebec (Lower Canada), New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. ° ana a 
Four years later Manitoba and British Columbia were included, and Prince 
Edward's Island in 1S74. A parliament was formed consisting of a Senate 
of life members chosen by the prime minister and an Assembly elected by 
the people. The formation of the dominion was soon followed by trouble. 



514 THE DOMINION OF CANADA 

this time arising in the Indian country, over which the Canadian people 

had rapidly extended their authority. Louis Riel, son of the leader of the 

Metes (half-breed) Indians, headed a rebellion in 1869 and established a 

provisional orovernmei.t ^t Fort Garry. In the following- year 
The Riel Revolts . 

the revolt collapsed on the arrival of General Wolseley at 

this fort. Twice in later years Riel attempted rebellion, the second time 
in 18S5. He was finally captured and executed, and the rebellious senti- 
ment vanished with his death. 

Shortly after the formation of the dominion, Sir John Macdonald 
became a conspicuous figure in Canadian politics and for many years served 
as prime minister of the country. He took part in the treaty of Washing- 
ton, which referred to arbitration of the Alabama claim and other questions 
between Great Britain and the United States, and came near defeat in con- 
sequence, since the parts of the treaty which referred to Canada were very 
unpopular in that country. He was defeated in 1873 on the question of the 
Canadian Pacific Railway, concerning which a great scandal had arisen, 
with suspicion of wholesale bribery. In 1878 Macdonald returned to the 
premiership, which he continued to hold until his death in 1891. 

Despite the scandal attending the Pacific Railway bill, that enterprise 
was pushed forward with much energy, and, after desperate financial strug- 
gles, was completed in 1886. It need scarcely be said that it has since 
played a highly important part in the development of Canada. Under the 
The Canadian liberal ministry of Alexander Mackenzie (1873-78) the coun- 
Pacific Rail- try prospered greatly for a time, but a period of financia! 
stringency followed, and the people demanded commerical pro- 
tection. This was given by the Conservatives, under Macdonald, in 1879, a 
protective tariff being adopted as a measure of defence against the commer- 
ical enterprise of the United States. The result was a rapid revival of trade 
and wide-spread prosperity. In 1880, by an act of the British Parliament, 
the control of all the British possessions in Canada — except Newfoundland, 
which had not joined the Union — was transferred to the Dominion Parlia-' 
ment, and the country became in large measure an independent nation. 

The important questions which have since that time arisen in Canada 

have had largely to do with its relations to the United States and its 

people. One of the most troublesome of these has been the question of 

the fisheries on the banks of Newfoundland and the coasts of 

Tl !f.^. ,s ?*? Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. For years the problem 
Difficulties _ J 1 

of the rights of American fishermen on the Canadian coast 
excited controversy. In 1877 the Halifax Fishery Commission awarded 



THE DOMINION OF CANADA 5 r 5 

$5,500,000 to Great Britain, to pay for the privileges granted to the United 
States, and in 1888 a treaty was signed for the settlement of this vexa- 
tious question. 

'Idle temporary removal of this difficulty was followed by the develop- 
ment of a still more serious fishery controversy between the two countries, 
that relating to the fur-seal fishery of Alaska. The fur-seals, frequenting 
the Pribylof Islands of the Bering Sea for breeding purposes, belonged to 
the United States, which rented out the right of killing seals on these islands 
to the Alaska Commercial Company, whose killing privileges were restricted 
to 100,000 yearly. But these seals had a wide, range of excursion at sea, 
and Canadian fishermen began to prey upon them in the open waters. 
These depredations, beginning in 1886, reduced the herds by 
[890 to such an extent that the Alaska Company could secure J* " r ."' < "' 
only 21,000 skins in that year. There was serious danger of 
the extermination of the animals, and the United States took active 
measures to prevent poaching on its preserves, as it regarded the work of the 
Canadians. The controversy on this question became strenuous as time 
went on, and it was seriously thought at one time that the easiest way out 
of the difficulty would be to kill all the seals at once and so put an end to the 
problem. Finally the two nations concerned agreed to submit the question 
to arbitration, and a decision was rendered in 1 tablishing a "protected 

zone" of sixty miles around the Pribylof Islands. Unfortunately the ocean 
range of the seals is much wider than this, and the diminution of the herd 
has still gfone on. The difficulty, therefore, remains unsettl 

Sir fohn Macdonald died in (891 and Sir John S. D. Th >n, a man 

of marked ability, became premier in 1892. He lived, however, only until 
1894 and for a brief interval Sir Charles Tupper filled the office. before 
the end of the year he resigned, and Sir Wilfred Laurier became premier, 
he being the first French Canadian to hold that high office. The most 
important questions rising under his administration were those springing 
from the discovery of gold >> 1 the Klondike River. This find 
was made in the autumn of 1896, and as reports quickly spread y\oi\&\\L 
of the richness of the diggings, a rush of miners, mainly 
Americans, took place during the following year. But it was quickly 
perceived that the region was not in Alaska, as at first supposed, but 
in Canadian territory, and mining laws were impose. 1 by the Canadian govern- 
ment, including heavy fees and royalties, which were bitterly objected to 
by the American miners. 

But the chief question arising from the find was that concerning the 
true boundary between the two countries. This had never been clearly 



5I 6 THE DOMINION OF CANADA 

decided upon for the southern section of Alaska, and the natural desire of 

Canada to obtain an ocean outing for the new gold district, which was being 

( very rapidly settled, soon stirred up a very active controversy. 

The claim of Russia, transferred by purchase to the United States, 

called for a strip of land ten leagues wide from the coast backward. This 

would have been definite enough had it been quite clear what constituted 

the coast. The sea line of Alaska is marked by deep indentations, some of 

which are open to question as to whether they should be considered oceanic 

or inland waters. Such a one is Lynn Canal, which affords the natural 

waterway to the mountain passes leading to the upper Yukon, by whose 

waters the gold district can be most easily reached. This 

oun ary inlet, running sixty miles into the land, is less than six miles 
Question . . 

wide at its mouth ; and while the United States claimed 

that it was part of the open sea, the Canadian government looked upon it 
as territorial water, and demanded that the coast line should be drawn 
across its mouth. This would have given Canada control of its upper 
waters and the access to the sea from the Klondike region over its own 
territory which it so urgently needed. It would also have given it pos- 
session of Dyea and Skagua, two mining towns built and peopled by 
Americans at the head of the canal, and whose people would have bitterly 
opposed being made citizens of Canada. 

As will be perceived from the above statement a number of interna- 
tional questions had arisen between the United States and Canada, of 
which only the most urgent have here been mentioned. In 1898 an earnest 
attempt was made to adjust these annoying problems, by the appointment 
of an International Commission, whose sessions began in the city of Quebec, 
August 23, 1898. On the part of Great Britain and Canada the member- 
An interna. sm P consisted of Lord Herschell, ex-Lord Chancellor of 
tional Com- England, chairman, Sir Wilfred Laurier, the Premier of 
mission Canada, Sir Richard J. Cartwright, Minister of Trade and 

Commerce, Sir Louis H. Davies, Minister of Marine and Fisheries, John 
Charlton, M. P., and Sir James T. Winter, Premier of Newfoundland. The 
American members were Charles W. Fairbanks, United States Senator 
from Indiana, chairman, George Gray, Senator from Delaware, Nelson 
Dingley, Representative from Maine, John W. Foster, former Secretary of 
State and ex-Minister to Spain, Russia and Mexico, John A. Kasson, former 
Minister to Germany and Austria, and T. Jefferson Coolidge, former Min- 
ister to France. Senator Gray resigned in September, to take part in the Peace 
Commission on the Spanish War, and was succeeded by Senator Charles J. 
Faulkner, of West Virginia. 



THE DOMINION OF CANADA 517 

The principal questions that came before this Commission for con- 
sideration were the following : 'The adjustment of the difficulties concern- 
ing the Atlantic and Pacific coast fisheries and those still arising in reference 
to the fur-seals; the establishment of a fixed boundary between Alaska 
and Canada; provision for the transit of merchandise to or from either 
country across territory of the other, or to be delivered at 
points in either country beyond the frontier; the questions of »t ultfe ""^ 
labor laws and mining rights affecting the subjects ol either 
country within the territory of the other; a mutually satisfactory readjust- 
ment of customs duties; an understanding concerning the placing of war 
vessels on the great lakes ; arrangements to define and mark the frontier 
line; provision for the conveyance of accused persons by officers of one 
country through the territory of the other; and reciprocity in wrecking 
and salvage rights. 

As will be perceived from this list of subjects to be considered, the 
High Commission had abundance of work mapped out for it. While some 
of the questions were of minor importance and might be settled with 
comparative ease, others were of high significance and likely to prove very 
difficult to adjust. In fact, they proved beyond the powers of the commis- 
sion. Adjourning from Quebec to meet in Washington in The Failure of 
November, the members continued in session there for several the Coinmis- 
months longer, but adjourned finally in the spring of 1899 with- 
out having been able to come to a decision on the difficult matters involved. 

Several of these questions, indeed, were of the most complex and 
vexatious character, particularly that relating to the fisheries, which had 
been a source of trouble and conflict through most of the century. As 
respects the transport of goods of one country over the territory of the 
other, it is a matter of much importance to Canada, which sends great 
quantities of goods over United States territory for shipment abroad, 
six times more Canadian grain, for instance, going by way of Buffalo, than 
via Montreal and the St. Lawrence. The problem of reciprocal customs 
regulations is also one of much importance to Canada, which imports more 
merchandise from the United States than is sent by that Commerce of 
country to all the remainder of the American Continent, Canada with 
amounting in all to about $70,000,000 annually. In return the United 
its exports to the United States amount to about $50,000,000, 
the total commerce being of importance enough to call for special tariff 
regulations between the two countries. 

After the adjournment of the commission, efforts were made to adjust 
the boundary question, so far as Lynn Canal was concerned, through an 



5i8 



THE DOMINION OF CANADA 



understanding between the two governments. The United States, in con- 
sideration of the needs of Canada in the Klondike region, showed a disposi- 
tion to concede temporarily to that country a tidewater port in the Lynn 
Canal. But decided protests from commercial ports on the Pacific seaboard 
caused the withdrawal of the proposed concession. A temporary adjust- 
ment of the question was subsequently made, a line being drawn by officials 
of the two countries which followed the mountian summits and cut off 
Canada from access to the sea except across United States territory. 

The progress of Canada during the past quarter of a century has been 
very great, while her population has increased in that period by nearly one- 
half. Railways have spread like a network over the rich agricultural terri- 
tory along the southern border land of the dominion, from 
Railway Prog- , , . . , , , , , 

ress in Canada ocean to ocean, and are now pushing into the deep torest land 

and rich mineral regions of the interior and the northwest, 
their total length in 1899 being over 17,000 miles, a large mileage for a 
population of 5.000,000. The most recent railway projected is one to the 
Klondike region, which already has a large population, and possesses in 
Dawson City a thriving and enterprising headquarters of the mining region. 
Canada has also been active in canal building, and has now under consider- 
ation a project of the highest importance, namely, the excavation of a ship- 
canal from Lake Huron to the St. Lawrence. This great enterprise, if 
carried into effect, will shorten the distance of commercial navigation by 
hundreds of miles and be of untold advantage to the Canadian common- 
wealth. It is proposed also to deepen the existing canals, so as to permit 
the conveyance of ocean freight without breaking bulk. 

In manufacturing industry almost every branch of production is to be 
found, the progressive enterprise of the people of the Dominion being 

great, and a large proportion of the goods they need being 

Manufacturing ma( j e at home. The best evidence of the enterprise of 
Enterprise . . 

Canada in manufacture is shown by the fact that she exports 

many thousand dollars worth of goods annually more than she buys — Eng- 
land being her largest customer and the United States second on the list. 
In addition to her manufactured products, Canada is actively agricultural, 
and possesses vast natural wealth in the products of her rich mines, vast 
The Yield of forests and prolific fisheries. The most recent of these sources 
Precious of wealth are her mines of the precious metals, which yielded 

over $6,000,000 in gold and $7,000,000 in silver in 1897, 
shortly after the discovery of the Klondike deposits. The yield of those 
has since very greatly increased. 



THE DOMINION OF CANADA 519 

Not only is the outside world largely ignorant of the importance of 
Canada, but few of her own people realize the greatness of the country they 
possess. Its area of more than three and one-half millions of square miles 
— one-sixteenth of the entire land surface of the earth — is great enough to 
include an immense variety of natural conditions and products This area 
constitutes forty per cent, of the far extended British empire, while its 
richness of soil and resources in forest and mineral wealth are as yet almost 
untouched, and its promise of future yield is immense. The dimensions 
of the dominion guarantee a great variety of natural attractions. There 
are vast grass-covered plains, thousands of square miles of untouched forest 
lands, multitudes of lakes and rivers, great and small, and Extent and Re- 
mountains of the wildest and grandest character, whose sources of the 
natural beaut)- equals that of the far-lamed Alpine peaks. Dominion 
In fact, the Canadian Pacific Railway is becoming a route "I pilgrimage for 
the lovers of the beautiful and sublime, its mountain scenery being un- 
rivaled upon the continent. 

The population of Canada varies in character according to location. 
In Ontario the people are generally English. In Quebec, and many other 
portions of what was formerly called Lower Canada, the original settlers 
were French, and their descendants are still in the majority and retain many 
of the habits and customs of their mother country- so much so, in fact, that, 
though England has ruled the land for about one hundred and fifty years, 
the French language is still almost exclusively spoken. Even in the cities 
of Montreal and Quebec the prevalence of the language makes the visitor 
from Toronto feel that he is in a foreign city. 

In the west, until a few years ago, the prevailing population was the 
original Indian and the half-breed. But this element, though still numerous, 
is fast being swallowed up or hidden by the throng of immigrants, who are 
now pouring into that vast and resourceful region. These immigrants, 
unlike those of the older eastern provinces, are made up of all The Character of 
the nationalities of northern Europe, the British Isles, however, the Canadian 
being well represented. Out of this mixture a new people, 
combining the good and progressive elements of various nations, is springing 
up. In this respect the Canadians of the northwest are much like the 
inhabitants of the northwestern United States. 

Population at present is densest on the southern borders of the country, 
alone the Great Lakes and the shores of the St. Lawrence. The interior is 
very sparsely settled, and as the latitude increases the cold of winter, except 
where the country is warmed by the winds of the Pacific, becomes more 
intense, until, in the northern part of the dominion, it is practically impossible 



520 



THE DOMINION OF CANADA 



for the Caucasian race to live in comfort. Much of this unbroken wilderness 
is covered with gigantic forests, which make lumbering the chief industry of 
that section, as agriculture is of the lower latitudes. In fact, lumbering 
and agriculture are the chief industries of all sections except the sea-coasts, 
where fishing interests are of great importance, and certain portions of the 
great northwest, like the Yukon districts, where mining is predominant. 
On the whole, Canada has before it a great future, and what its political 
destiny will be no man can foresee. 

In several conditions the people of Canada, while preserving the general 
features of English society, are much more free and untrammeled. The 
caste system of Great Britain has gained little footing in this new land, 
where nearly every farmer is the owner of the soil which he tills, and the 
people have a feeling of independence unknown to the agricultural popula- 
tion of European countries. There has been great progress also in many 
social questions. The liquor traffic, for instance, is subject to the local option 
of restriction ; religious liberty prevails ; education is practically free and un- 
sectarian ; the franchise is enjoyed by all citizens ; members of the parliament 
are paid for their services ; and though the executive department of the 
government is under the control of a governor-general appointed by the 
queen, the laws of Canada are made by its own statesmen, and a state of 
practical independence prevails. Recognizing this, and respecting the liberty- 
loving spirit of the people, Great Britain is chary in interfering with any 
question of Canadian policy, or in any sense in attempting to limit the free- 
dom of her great Transatlantic Colony. 





RT. HON SIR JOHN A. MACDON U.D. G. C. B 
I Mil ister of Canada, 3878-189:. 



RT. HON. J. S. D. THOMPSON, K.C. M. G. 

Prime Minister of Canada. 1852-1804. 








RT. HON. SIR WII.FKII) LAURIER, 
Prime Minister of Canada, 1806. 

'LLUSTRIOUS SONS OF CANADA 



SIR CHARLES TUPPER. 





DAVID LIVINGSTONE 



HENRY M. STANLEY. 




DR. FRITHIOF NANSEN. LIEUT. R. E. l'LAK\. 

GREAT EXPLORERS IN THE TROPICS AND ARCTICS. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Livingstone, Stanley, Peary, Nansen and Other Great 
Discoverers and Explorers. 

AT the beginning of the nineteenth century, long as man had previously 
existed upon the earth, "much more than half its surface was unknown 
to the most civilized nations. Of the extensive continent of Africa, 
for instance, only the coast regions had been explored, while the vast inte- 
rior could fairly be described as the " Great Unknown." The immense con- 
tinent of Asia was known only in outline. With its main feature's men had 
some acquaintance, but its details were as little known as the 
mountains of the moon. With America men were little bet- l *" orance ° f 

the harth's 

ter acquainted than with Africa. The United States itself had 5urtace at 

been explored only as far west as the Mississippi, and that but theBegin- 
. , , n , , , , nins of the 

imperfectly. 1 he vast space between that great stream and century 
the Pacific almost wholly awaited discovery. The remainder 
of the continent was divided into national domains, which were thinly in- 
habited and very imperfectly known. Of the continental island of Australia 
only a few spots on the border had been visited, and still less was known of 
the broad region of the North Polar zone. 

At the end of the century a very different tale could be told. The hun- 
dred \ ears had been marked by an extraordinary activity in travel, adven- 
ture, and discovery; daring men had penetrated the most obscure recesses 

of continents and islands, climbed the most difficult moun- 

. , ., .... Great Activity 

tains, ventured among the most savage tribes, studied the of |- :xp | orers 

geographical features and natural productions ol a thousand in the Nine- 

resrions before unknown, and learned more about the condi- 

° . tury 

tions of the earth than had been learned in a thousand years 

before. The work of the century has no parallel in history except the 
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when America was discovered and the 
East Indies were explored, and the horizon of human knowledge was im- 
mensely extended. 

The <j;reat achievements of the century with which we have to deal were 
performed by a large number of adventurous men, far too numerous even to 
be named in this review. 

29 523 



524 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 

In fact it would need a volume, and one of considerable extent, to tell, 
even in epitome, the story of travel and exploration within the nineteenth 
century. Such a story, given in any fulness, would far transcend our pur- 
pose, which is confined to the description of the great events of the century, 
those of epoch-making significance, and which played leading parts in the | 
progress of the period with which we are concerned. In this review, there- 
fore, we may fairly confine ourselves to records of travel in 
The Notable . ,, ,, . r . r . ., 

Fieidsof two re g lons or the earth, the continent or Africa and the 

Nineteenth Arctic Zone, of both of which little was known at the opening of 
entury ^g century, while the story of their exploration has been of 

startling interest and importance. The interior of Asia and 
America, while presenting problems to be solved, were not unknown in the 
sense in which we speak of Africa, over which rested a pall of darkness as black 
as the complexion of its inhabitants. Australia alone was unknown in a 
similar sense. But the interior of that great island is practically a desert, 
and its exploration possesses nothing of the interest which attaches to that of 
Africa, a land which for many centuries has attracted the active attention 
and aroused the vivid curiosity of mankind, while a satisfactory acquaintance 
with it has been left for the latter half of the nineteenth century. 

Of the great travelers to whom we are indebted for our present knowl- 
edge of this continent two stand pre-eminent, David Livingstone and Henry 
M. Stanley, and we may deal with their careers as the pivots around which - 
the whole story of African exploration revolves. 

The first of modern travelers to penetrate the interior of western 
Africa to any considerable depth was the justly celebrated 

Famous African M ung r Park, whose first journey to the Niorer was made in 
Travelers ° J J a 

1795-96, and the second in 1805. He traced that important 

stream through a large part of its upper course — finally losing his life as a 
result of his intrepid daring. On the east coast, at a somewhat earlier date 
(1768-73) the equally famous James Bruce penetrated Abyssinia to the head- 
waters of the Blue Nile, which he looked upon as the source of the great 
river of Egypt. About the same time the French traveler Vaillant entered 
the continent at Cape Town and journeyed north for more than three 
hundred miles, into the country of the Bushmen. 

Such was the state of African exploration at the beginning of the century 
under consideration. The travelers named, and others of minor importance, 
had not penetrated far from the coast, and the vast interior of the continent 
remained almost utterly unknown. In fact the century was half gone before 
anything further of consequence was discovered, the first journey of Dr. 
Livingstone being made in 1849. 



GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 525 

David Livingstone, an enterprising man, of Scotch birth, left England 
in 1840 to devote his life to missionary work in Africa. He had studied 
medicine and theology, and was well equipped in every way for the arduous 
mil difficult work he had undertaken. Landing at Port Natal, he became 
associated with the Rev. Robert Moffat, a noted African missionary, whose 
daughter In; afterwards married, and for years he labored l)r 1 j v j n ,r. 
perseveringly as an agent of the London Missionary Society, stone's Mis- 
He studied the languages, habits, and religious beliefs of a su)nar y 
number of tribes, and became one of the most earnest and successful 
of missionaries, his subsequent journeys being undertaken largely for the 
advance of his religious labors. 

His experience in missionary work convinced him that success in this 
field of duty was not to be measured by the tale of conversions — of doubtful 
character — which could be sent home every year, but that the proper work 
for the enterprising white man was that of pioneer research. He could 
besl employ himself in opening up and exploring new fields of labor, and 
might safely leave to native agents the duty of working these out in detail. 

This theory he first put into effect in 1849, in which year he set out 
an a journey into the unknown land to the north, the goal of his enter- 
prise being Lake Ngami, on which no white man's eyes had ever fallen. In 
company with two English sportsmen, Mr. Oswell and Mr. 
Murray, he traversed the great and bleak Kalahari Desert, — ^k^Nsami 
which he was the first to describe in detail, — -and on the 
1st of August the travelers wen- gladdened by the sight of the previously 
unknown liquid plain, the most southerly of the great African lak 

Two hundred miles beyond this body of water lived a noted chief 
named Sebituane, the chief of the Makololo tribe, whose residence Living- 
stone sought to reach the following year, bringing with him on this journey 
his wife and children. But fever seized the children and he was obliged to 
stop at the shores of the lake. Nothing daunted by this failure, he set out 
again in 1851, once more accompanied by his family, and with his former 
companion, Mr. ( >swell, his purpose being to settle anion-- the Makololos ami 
seek to convert to Christianity their great chief. He succeeded in reaching 
the tribe, but the death of Sebituane, shortly after his arrival, disanai 
his plans, and he was obliged to return. Hut before doing so he and Mr. 
Oswell made an exploration of several hundred miles to the northeast, their 
journey ending at the Zambesi, the great river of South Africa, which he here 
found flowing in a broad and noble current through the centre of the continent. 

The subsequent travels of Livingstone were performed more for 
purposes of exploration than for religious labors, though to the cnt) he 



52 6 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 

considered himself a missionary pioneer. Sending his family to England, 

he left Capetown in June, 1852, and reached Linyanti, the capital of the 

Makololo, in May, 1853, being received in royal style by the 

'journeTfrom chief and his people, by whom he was greatly esteemed. He 

the Zambesi next ascended the Zambesi, in search of some healthy high 

to the West land for a missionary station. But everywhere he found the 

tsetse fly, an insect deadly to animals, and, annoyed by the 

ravages of this insect among- his cattle, he determined to leave that locality 

and enter upon the greatest journey ever yet undertaken in Africa, one 

through the unknown interior to the west coast. 

The start was made from Linyanti on November 11, 1853, the party 
ascending- the Leeba to Lake Dilolo, which was reached in February, 1854. 
Finally, on the 31st of May, they came to the coast town of St. Paul de 
Loanda, in Portuguese West Africa. Their long and dangerous journey 
had been attended by numberless hardships, and Livingstone reached the 
coast nearly worn out by fever, dysentery and semi-starvation. But nothing I 
could deter the indefatigable traveler. He set out again after a few months, 
reached Lake Dilolo on June 13, 1855, and Linyanti in September. After 
a brief interval of rest he left this place with a determination to follow the 
broad-flowing Zambesi to its mouth in the eastern sea. 

A fortnight after his start he made the most notable of his discoveries, 
the one with which his name is most intimately associated in popular 
The Discovery estimation, that of the great Victoria Falls of the Zambesi, 
of the Great a cataract which has no rival upon the earth except the still 
Victoria Falls m jcrhtier one of the Niagara. Here an immense cleft or 
fissure in the earth cuts directly across the channel of the river, which 
pours in an enormous flood down into the cavernous abyss, whence "the 
smoke of its torrent ascendeth forever." The country surrounding seems 
to be a great basin-shaped plateau, surrounded by a ring of mountains, 
the depression having probably at onetime been filled with an immense lake 
whose waters were drained off when the earth split asunder across its bed. 

On went the untiring traveler, and on May 20, 1856, he reached the 
east coast at the Portuguese town of Ouillimane, at the mouth of the Zam- 
besi, in a frightfully emaciated condition He had, in two and a half years 
of travel, performed one of the most remarkable journeys ever made up to 
The First Cross= tnat tUTie - First proceeding north from the Cape to Loanda, 
ing of the through twenty-five degrees of latitude, he had for the first 

time in history, crossed the continent of Africa from ocean to 
ocean, through as many degrees of longitude, while his discoveries in the 
geography and natural history of the region traversed had been immense. 



GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 527 

Livingstone returned to England in the latter part of the year and was 
received with the highest enthusiasm, being welcomed as the first to break 
through that pall of darkness which had so long enveloped the interior 
of Africa. The Royal Geographical Society had already conferred upon 
him its highest token of honor, its gold medal, and now honors and 
compliments were showered upon him until the modest traveler was over- 
whelmed with the warmth of his reception. 

The desire to complete his work was strong upon him, and after pub- 
lishing an account of his travels, in a work of modest simplicity, he returned 
to Africa, reaching the mouth of the Zambesi in May, 1858. In 1859 his 
new career of discovery began in an exploration of the Shire, u v i n .r St one 
a northern affluent of the Zambesi, up which he journeyed to Discovers 
the great Lake Nyassa, another capital discovery. For several e 

years he was engaged in exploring the surrounding region and in furthering 
the interests of missionary enterprise among the natives. In one of his 
journeys his wife, who was his companion during this period of his travels, 
died, and in 1864 he returned home, worn out with his extraordinary labors 
in new lands and desiring to spend the remainder of his days in quiet and 
repose. 

But at the suggestion of Murchison, the famous ist and his 

staunch friend, he was induced to return to Africa, one of his main purposes 
being to take steps looking to the suppression of the Arab slave trade, whose 
horrors had long excited his deepest sympathies. Landing at the mouth of 
the Rovuma River — a stream he had previously explored — on March 22, 
1866, he started for the interior, rounded Lake Nyassa on the south, and 
set off to the northeast for the great Lake Tanganyika — which hail mean- 
while been discovered by Barton and Speke, in 1857. 

After his departure Livingstone vanished from sight and knowledge, 
and for five years was utterly lost in the deep interior of the continent. 
From time to time vasfue intimations of his movements reached the world 
of civilization, but the question of his fate became so exciting a one that 
in 1S71 Henry M. Stanley was dispatched, at the expense of the proprietor 
of the New York Herald, to penetrate the continent and seek to discover 
the long-lost traveler. Stanley found him at: Ljiji, on the sta.n\&y 
northeast shore of Tanganyika, on October iS, 1S71, the great in Search of 
explorer being then, in his words, "a ruckle of bon Far 'vmgstone 

and wide he had traveled through Central Africa, discovering a host of 
lakes and streams, and finding many new tribes with strange habits. Among 
his notable discoveries was that of the Lualaba River — The Upper Congo 
— which he believed to be the head-waters of the Nile. His work had been 



528 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 

enormous, and the "Dark Continent" had yielded to him a host of its long 
hidden mysteries. Not willing yet to give up his work, he waited at Ujiji for 
men and supplies sent him by Stanley from the coast, and then started 
The Death of south for Lake Bangweolo, one of his former discoveries. But 
the Great attacked again by his old enemy, dysentery, the iron frame of 

Explorer t j ie g- reat traveller at length yielded, and he was found, on 

May i, 1873, by his men, dead in his tent, kneeling by the side of his bed, 
Thus perished in prayer the greatest traveler in modern times. 

For more than thirty years Livingstone had dwelt in Africa, most of 
that time engaged in exploring new regions and visiting new peoples. His 
travels had covered a third of the continent, extending from the Cape to 
near the equator, and from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean, his work being 
all done leisurely and carefully, so that its results were of the utmost value 
to geographical science. He had also aroused a sentiment against the Arab 
slave-trade which was to give that frightful system its death-blow. 

The work of Livingstone stirred up an enthusiasm for African travel, 
and many adventurous explorers set out for that continent during his 
career. After the discovery of Lake Tanganyika by Burton and Speke, in 
1857, the latter started to the northeast, and reached the head-waters of the 
great Victoria Nyanza, the largest body of water on the continent. Subse- 
quently this traveler, accompanied by Mr. Grant, journeyed to the White 
Nile, north of this lake, while Samuel Baker, another adventurous traveler, 
accompanied by his heroic wife, reached in 1864 a great lake west of the 
Victoria, which he named the Albert Nyanza. 

Further north Dr. Barth, as early as 1850, set out on a journey across 
the Sahara to the Soudan, and at a later date various travelers explored 
this northern section of the continent, while in 1874-75 Lieu- 
other African tenant Cameron repeated Livingstone's feat of crossing the 
Travelers l ° ° 

continent from sea to sea. But the greatest of African travel- 
ers after Livingstone was Henry M. Stanley, with whose work we are next 
concerned. 

While a reporter in the New York Herald, this enterprising man hac 1 
been sent to Crete to report upon the revolution in that island, to Abyssinu; 
during the British invasion, and to Spain during the revolution in that 
country. While in Spain, in 1869, James Gordon Bennett sent him the 
brief order to "find Livingstone." This was enough for Stanley, who pro- 
ceeded at once to Zanzibar, organized an expedition, and did " find Living- 
stone," as above stated. 

Next, filled with the spirit of travel, Stanley set out to "find Africa," 
now as joint agent for the Herald and the London Daily Telegraph. 



GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 529 

Setting out from Zanzibar in November, 1874, he proceeded, with a large 
expedition, to the Victoria Nyanza, which he circumnavigated ; and then 
journeyed to Tanganyika, whose shape and dimension he similarly ascer- 
tained. From these he proceeded westward to the Lualaba, _ . , . 

1 Stanley s Jour- 

the stream which Livingstone had supposed to he the Nile. ney "to the 
How Stanley made Ins way down this great stream, overcom- Victoria Ny- 
ing enormous difficulties and fighting his way through 
hostile tribes, is too long a story to be told here It must suffice to say 
that he soon found that lie was not upon the Nile, but upon a westward 
flowing stream, which he eventually identified as the Congo — a great river 
whose lower course only had been previously known. For ten months the 
daring traveler pursued his journey down this stream, assailed by treachery 
and hostility, and finally reached the ocean, having traversed the heart of 
that vast "unexplored territory " which long occupied so wide a space on 
all maps of Africa. lie had learned that the interior of the continent is a 
mighty plateau, watered by the Congo ami its many large TheDescentof 
affluents and traversed in all directions by navigable waters. the (ireat 
Politically this remarkable journey led to the founding of the Congo River 
Congo free State, which embraces th«- central region of tropical Africa, and 
which Stanley was sent to establish in 1S79. 

In 1SS7 he set out on another great journey. The conquest of the 
Egyptian Soudan by the Mahdi, described in a preceding chapter, had not 
onlv greatly diminished the territory of Egypt, but had cutoff Emin l'asha 
( 1 >r. Edward Schnitzler), governor of the Equatorial Province of Egypt, 
leaving him stranded on the Upper Nile, near the Albert Nyanza. Here 
Emin maintained himself for years, holding his own against his foes, and 
actively engaging in natural history study. but, cut oil as he was from 
civilization, threatened by the Mahdi. and his fate unknown in Europe, .1 
growing anxiety concerning him prevailed, and Stanley was sent to find him, 
as he had before found Livingstone. 

Oreanizin>'" a strong expedition at Zanzibar, the traveler sailed with his 
officers, soldiers and negro porters for the mouth of the Congo, which river 
he pn ipi ised to make the channel of his exploration. Setting out stan | ey Qoes to 
from this point on March lS, 1887, by June 15th the expedition the Rescue of 
had reached the village of Vambuya, 1,500 miles up the stream. m,n as a 

Thus far he had traversed waters well known to him. From this point he 
proposed to plunge into the unknown, following the course; of the Aruwimi, 
a large affluent of the Congo which flowed from the direction of the great 
Nyanza lake-basins. 



530 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 

It was a terrible journey which the expedition now made. Before it 
spread a forest of seemingly interminable extent, peopled mainly by the 
curious dwarfs who form the forest-folk of Central Africa. The difficulties 
before the traveler were enormous, but no hardship or danger could daunt 
his indomitable courage, and he kept resolutely on until he met the lost 
Emin on the shores of Albert Nyanza, as he had formerly met Livingstone 
on those of Lake Tanganyika. 

Three times in effect Stanley crossed that terrible forest, since he returned 
to Yambuya for the men and supplies he had left there and journeyed back 
again. Finally he made an overland journey to Zanzibar, on the east coast, 
with Emin and his followers, who had been rescued just in time to save them 
A Terrible from imminent peril of overthrow and slaughter by the fana- 

Forest tical hordes of the Mahdi. This second crossing of the con- 

.ourney tinent by Stanley ended December 4, 18S9, having continued 

little short of three years. The discoveries made were great and valuable, 
and on his return to Europe the explorer met with a reception almost 
royal in its splendor. Among the large number of travelers who during 
the latter half of the century have contributed to make the interior of 
Africa as familiar to us as that of portions of our own continent, Livingstone 
and Stanley stand pre-eminent, the most heroic figures in modern travel : 
Livingstone as the missionary explorer, who won the love of the savage 
tribes and made his way by the arts of jaeace and gentleness ; Stanley as 
the soldierly explorer, who fought his way through cannibal hordes, his arts 
being those of force and daring. They and their successors have performed 
one of the greatest works of the nineteenth century, that of lifting the 
cloud which for so many centuries lay thick and dense over the whole 
extent of interior Africa. 

Leaving this region of research, we must now seek another which has 
been the seat of as earnest efforts and terrible hardships and has aroused 
The Exploration as ardent a spirit of investigation, the Arctic Zone. At no 
of the Arctic point in the story of the nineteenth century do we find a 
greater display of courage and resolution, a more patient 
endurance of suffering, and a more unyielding determination to extend the 
limits of human knowledge, than in this region of ice and snow, the delving 
into whose secrets has actively continued during the latter half of the 
century. 

A number of voyages were made to the Arctic regions in former 
centuries, and Henry Hudson as early as 1607 sailed as far north as the 
latitude of 81 degrees 30 minutes in the vicinity of Spitzbergen. With the 
opening of the nineteenth century exploration grew more active, and 



GREA 7 D/S< "< ' / "ERERS . IND EXPLORERS 531 

voyage after voyage was made ; but the distance north reached by Hudson 
two centuries before was not surpassed until [827, when Parry reached 82 
degrees 40 minutes north latitude in the same region of the Early Expedi- 
sea. Beyond thi orts to penetrate the ice barrier, and the tionstothe 

discovery of some islands in the Arctic Ocean, nothing of Far o 
special interest occurred until the date of Sir John Franklin's expedition, 
which left England in 1845 ;m< ' disappeared in the icy seas, every soul on 
board perishing. This expedition was made famous by the many search 
parties which were, sent out in quest of the lost mariners. 

By one ol these parties the northwest passage from ocean to ocean, 
around the Arctic coast of America, was traversed in 1854. The fate of 
Franklin and his men was not full}' solved until 1880, when an American 
expedition, under Lieutenant Schwatka, found the last traces left by the 
unfortunate explorers. 

As famous and as disastrous as the Franklin expedition was the "Lady 
Franklin Bay Expedition," conducted by Lieutenant Greely, oi the United 
States arm\-, which set out in 1SS1. This expedition was not sent for pur- 
poses of polar research, but in pursuance of a plan to conduct a seri» 
circumpolar meteorological observations. The relief party of 1 883, dis- 
patched to the rescue of the explorers, was unfortunately put under the 
control of military men, who not only failed to reach their destination, but 
even to leave a supply of food where Greely and his men might justly 
expect to find one. 

As a result of this failure, the explorers were obliged to abandon their 
ships and make their way southwards over almost impassable ice. In Octo- 
ber the_\- reached Cape Sabine, one of the bleakest spots in rhe Dreadful 
the Arctic zone. If food had been left there for them all would Fate uf the 
have been well. But they looked in vain for the expected ree J art> 

supplies, and when, in June, 1884, Commodore Schley reached them with a 
new relief ship, starvation had almost completed its work. Of the whole 
party only six men survived, and a day or two more of delay would have 
carried them all away. Among the survivors was their leader, Lieutenant 
■' ireely. 

A disaster as fatal in character attended the Jeannette expedition, sent 
out by the New York Herald, in 1879, under Commander DeLong, to push 
north by way of Bering Strait. The vessel was crushed by The ,- ata | 
the ice in 1882, ami the crew made their way over the frozen "Jeannette" 
surface past the Xew Siberian Islands to the mouth of the xpe 
Lena River, on the north coast of Siberia. Here starvation attacked them, 
and DeLong and man}' of his men miserably perished, their bodies being 



53 2 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 

found by Engineer Melville, one of their companions, who had pushed 
south to the Siberian settlements and secured aid, with which he heroically 
returned for the rescue of the unfortunate mariners. 

Another expedition calling for attention was that of Adolf Erik 
Nordenskjold, a Swedish scientist. The purpose of this enterprise was to 
discover, if possible, a practical commercial route through the waters north 
of Europe and Asia, the long sought-for Northeast Passage. In 1878 
Expedition Nordenskjold set out in the Vega, commanded by Captain 

of Prof. Nor- Pallander, of the Swedish Navy. The party succeeded in 

s JO making the long journey round the northern coasts of Eu- 

rope and Asia, wintering in Bering Strait and reaching Japan in 1879. 
This vessel was the first one to round the northernmost point of Asia, and 
Nordenskjold was rewarded by being made a baron and a commander of the 
order of the Pole Star in his own country, and by marks of distinction from 
several others of the courts of Europe. 

Since 1890 the work of polar exploration has taken new forms. In 
1870 Nordenskjold made a journey into Greenland, and a second one in 
1883, penetrating that island more than 100 miles and reach- 
Land Journeys • a snow _ c i a d elevation of 7,000 feet. In 1886 Lieutenant 
in Greenland ° / 

Robet E. Peary, of the United States Navy, made a similar 

journey, and in 1888 Dr. Frithjof Nansen, a Norwegian explorer, crossed 
the southern part of the island on snowshoes from east to west. 

In 1891 Peary proceeded with a small party to McCormick Bav, a locality 
far up on the west coast of Greenland, whence he set out in the following 
spring with a single companion for a sledge journey over the northern 
section of the island. After a remarkable journey of 650 miles he reached 
the northeast coast of Greenland, at 8i°, 2,7" N. latitude, but the appear- 
ance of an area of broken stones impassable by sledges cut off his progress 
Peary Crosses to tne ^ ar noi "th. I'" 1 1 S95 Peary repeated this journey, but 
North Green= failed to make farther progress northward. 

During the final decade of the century polar expeditions 
became numerous. Walter Wellman, a young American journalist, attempted 
in 1S94 to reach the pole by sledge and boat over the Spitzbergen route, 
but his supporting vessel was crushed in the ice, and he was forced to retreat 
when near the 81st parallel. He made a second "dash for the pole " in 
1898-99, but was disabled by an accident, and again obliged to return with- 
out success. In 1894 Frederick G. Jackson, an English explorer, visited 
Franz Joseph Land, an island region discovered by an Austrian expedition 
in 1872-74, and whose northern extension was not known. He remained 
on this island three years, carefully exploring it, and in 1896 stood on its 



GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 



533 



northern extremity, near the 8ist parallel, and in view of an open ex- 
panse ol polar waters, fackson's most notable service to science was the 
rescue of the daring explorer Nansen, whose expedition needs next to be 
described. 

Frithjof Nansen, whose crossing of Greenland has been mentioned, 
soon after projected an enterprise of a m:\v character. There was excellent 
on to suppose that a strong ocean current crossed the polar area, flow- 
ing from the coast of the Eastern hemisphere across to Greenland and 
down both shores of that island. By trusting to the drift in- 
fluence of this current a vessel might he carried past the' pole a " lsen and M,h 

rt ' ' Enterprise 

and the long baffling mystery solved. Nansen accordingly had 
a vessel constructed adapted to resist the most powerful crushing' force, 
and so formed that a severe ice pressure would lift it to the surface of 
the floe. In this vessel, the Fram, he set out in fune, 1893, sailed east to 
the vicinity of the New Siberia Islands, and there made fast his ship to an 
ice floe, with the hope that the current would slowly carry ice and ship 
across the polar area. 

For three years Nansen and his crew were lost to all knowledge ol man, 
in these frozen seas, and all hopes ol his return had nearly vanished 
when he triumphantly reappeared, having achieved a marvelous success, 
even though short of that which he had desired. For more than a year the 
Fram had drifted slowly northward, and on Christmas eve, 1804. the lati- 
tude ol 83 degrees 24 minutes, reached by the Greely expedition, ami the 
highest yet attained, was passed. In March, 1895, Nansen left the ship, 

tisfied with its slow progress, anil with one companion started on a 
sledge journey to the north. But the ew so difficult to cross and his 

dog teams mi depleted in number, that, after a desperate effort, he was 
obliged to give up the enterprise on April 7th. lie had then reached 
latitude S6 degrees 14 minutes, being joo miles nearer the pole than former 
explorers had gone, and within 300 miles of that " farthest north " point. 
The vessel which he had left continued to drift north until it jsansens 
reached 85 degrees 57 minutes, when it turned southward. "Farthest 
Here the sea was found to he deep, and the belief that the 
pole might be surrounded by a land area was disproved. It lies probably 
in a sea region of over 10,000 feet in depth. 

Nansen and Johansen, his companion, finally reached the coast of 
Franz Joseph Land, where they drearily spent the winter of 1895-96, living 
on the flesh ui bearsand walrusses, which they shot. In the spring they set 
out to cross the ice to Spitzbergen, and after two unsucessful attempts had 
ihe good fortune to meet Dr. Jackson on the shores of Franz Joseph Land. 



534 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 

The incident was one of the most notable in the history of research, it 

seeming next to impossible that almost the only human beings in the 

vast area of the frozen north should have the remarkable 

The Rescue of f or t une t come together. The voyagers completed their 

Nansen _ _ & i i ■ i ttt- r / 

journey home in Jackson's supply ship, the Windward, their 

arrival in the realms of civilization being one of the most striking events of 

the century. In 1897 Jackson returned, having explored and mapped Franz 

Joseph Land. 

The final years of the century were very active in polar research. A 
new explorer of Swedish birth, S. A. Andree, devised a plan of reaching 
the pole as original as that of Nansen, and thought by many to be more 
hopeful. This was the taking advantage of the currents of air, instead of 
those of water. Mr. Andree was an aeronaut of experience, and found it 
possible, by aid of a rope drag and a rubber sail, to direct the motion of a 
balloon somewhat aside from the course of the wind. A balloon seemingly 
suitable for his enterprise was constructed, and in the summer of 1897 he 
Andre'e's Fatal set out ^ or tne nortn with two companions, and with ardent 
Balloon Ven= hopes of returning successful in a few months. Unhappily, 
accident or miscalculation interfered with the plans of the 
adventurous aeronaut, and he and his companions have failed to return. 
They have in all probability fallen victims to the terrible conditions of the 
northern zone. 

In 1898 Lieutenant Peary set out again for the scene of his former 
triumph, now equipped for a continued effort to solve the problem of the 
pole. He proposed to establish depots of provisions at successive points 
in the north, and to continue the enterprise for years if necessary, finally 
dashing polar-ward from his farthest north station. In the same year the 
Norwegian Captain Sverdrup proceeded to the same locality in the famous 
Fram, with purposes analogous to those of Peary. In 1899 tne adventurous 
Italian Prince Luigi, set out for Franz Joseph Land, well equipped for a 
journey north, and proposing to devote several years to the enterprise. 

Thus there is room for hope that the pole may be reached by the end 
of the nineteenth century, or before the twentieth century is many years 
advanced. Meanwhile the enterprise of South Polar exploration, long 
neglected, has been actively revived. Several expeditions have recently 
visited that region, and active steps are being taken for its exploration on 
a larger scale. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Robert Fulton, George Stephenson, and the 
Triumphs of Invention. 

IN no direction has the nineteenth century been more prolific than in that 
of invention, and its fame in the future is likely to be largely based on 
its immense achievements in this field of human activity. It has 
been great in other directions, — in science, in exploration, in political and 
moral development, but it is perhaps in invention and the industrial adapta- 
tion of scientific discovery that it stands highest and has done most for the 
advancement of mankind. And it is a fact of great interest that much the 

most striking and important work in this direction has been 
, .... A . . Anglo-Saxon 

done by the Anglo-baxon race, m many respects the most Activity in 

enterprising and progressive race upon the face of the earth. invention 
For the beginning' of this work, during the eighteenth century, credit must 
be given to Great Britain, and especially for the notable invention of the 
steam engine, which forms the foundation stone of the whole immense 
edifice. But to the development of the work, during the nineteenth cen- 
tury, we must seek the United States, whose inventive activity and the 
value of its results have surpassed those of any other region of the earth. 

We cannot confine ourselves to the nineteenth century in considering 
this subject, but must go back to the eighteenth, and glance at the epoch- 
making discovery of lames Watt, tin; famous Scottish engi- j ames Watt and 
neer, to whom we owe the great moving forced nineteenth thesteam 
century industry and progress, and whose life extended until "»£«ne 
1819, well within the century. There exists an interesting legend that ids 
attention was first attracted to the power of steam when a boy, when sittin 
by the fireside and observing the lid of his mother's tea-kettle lifted by the 
escaping steam. It is not, however, to the discover), but to the useful 
application of steam power that his fame is due. The use- of steam as a 
motive power had been attempted long before, and steam pumps used 
almost a century before Watt's great invention. What he did was to pro- 
duce the first effective steam engine, the parent machine upon which the 
multitudinous improvements during the succeeding century were based. 

535 



53 6 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 

While the eighteenth century is notable for the discovery of the steam 
engine and for the first stages in the production of labor-saving machinery, 
the great triumphs in the latter field of invention were made in the suc- 
ceeding century, during which era the powers of human production were 
Nineteenth developed to an extent not only unprecedented, but almost 

Century incredible, the powers of man, aided by steam and electricity, 

invention being increased a hundred-fold during a century of time. It 

would need a volume devoted to this subject alone to tell, even in epitome, 
all that has been done in this direction, and here we must confine ourselves 
to a rapid review of the leading results of inventive genius. 

Both in Great Britain and in America notable triumphs in the invention 

of labor-saving machines were accomplished in the closing period of the 

eighteenth century. These include the famous British inventions of the 

spinning jenny of James Hargreaves, the spinning frame of Sir Richard 

Arkwright, and the power loom of Dr. Cartwright, the first notable aids in 

cotton manufacture. These were rendered available by the cotton-gin of 

Eli Whitney, the American inventor, by whose genius the production of 

cotton fibre was enormously cheapened. Other celebrated American 

inventors of this period were John Fitch, to whose efforts the first practical 

steamboat was due, and Oliver Evans, who revolutionized milling machinery, 

. , . his devices in flour and grist mills being in use for half a cen- 

Labor-saving ° . 

Machinery of tury after his death. He was also the first to devise a steam 
the Eighteenth carriage, and in 1804 built a steam dredger, which propelled 
itself through the streets of Philadelphia and afterwards was 
moved as a stern-wheel steamboat on the Schuylkill River. Another famous 
invention of this period was the nail machine of Jacob Perkins, patented in 
1795, though not fully developed until 1810. At that time nails were all 
hand-wrought, and cost twenty-five cents a pound. By this machine the 
ancient hand process was speedily brought to an end and the price of nails 
has since been reduced to little more than that of the iron of which they are 
made. Another famous American inventor of early date was Thomas 
Blanchard, the most notable of whose many inventions was the Blanchard 
lathe, developed in 1819, for the turning of irregular forms, a contrivance 
of the utmost value in doing away with slow and costly methods of labor. 

-Of early inventions of the nineteenth century, however, the most 
The steamboat notable were the steamboat and the locomotive, the later de- 
and Locomo- velopment of which has been of extraordinary value to man- 
kind. Previous to the century under review, for a period of 
several thousand years, the horse had been depended on for rapid land travel 
the sail for rapid motion on the water. The inventions of Fulton and 



THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 537 

Stephenson brought these ancient systems to an end, and within a single 
century produced a magical change in the ability of man to make his way 
over the surface of land and sea. 

The application of steam to the movement of boats had been tried by 
several inventors in Great Britain and America in the eighteenth century, 
the most successful being John Fitch, whose steamboat was used for months 
on the Delaware about 1790. But the earliest inventor to produce a com- 
mercially successful steamboat was Robert Fulton, another American, 
whose boat, the Clermont, was given its trial trip on the Hudson in 1807. 

'This boat, in which was employed the principle of the side paddle- 
wheel, and which used a more powerful engine than John niton's Boat 
Fitch could command, was completed in August, 1807, and the •• Cler- 
excited a great degree of public interest, far more than had 
been given to the pioneer steamboat. Monday, September 11, 1S07, the 
time set for sailing, came, and expectation was at its highest pitch. The 
friends of the inventor were in a state of feverish anxiety lest the enterprise 
should come to grief, and the scoffers on the wharf were ready to give vent 
to shouts of derision. Precisely at the hour of one the moorings were 
thrown off, and the Clermont moved slowly out into the stream. Volumes 
of smoke rushed forth from her chimney, and her wheels, which were 
uncovered, scattered the spray far behind her. The spectacle was certainly 
novel to the people of those days, and some of the crowd on the wharf 
broke into shouts of ridicule. Soon, however, the jeers grew The pjrst 
silent, for it was seen that the steamer was increasing herspeed. steamboat 
Soon she was fairly under way, and making a steady pro- Trip Up the 

•11 ri Hudson 

gress up the stream at the rate of five miles per hour. 1 he 

incredulity of the spectators had been succeeded by astonishment, and 

now this feeling gave way to undisguised delight, and cheer after cheer went 

up from the vast throng. In a little while, 'however, the boat was observed 

to stop, and the enthusiasm at once subsided. The scoffers were again in 

'heir glory, and unhesitatingly pronounced the enterprise a failure. But to 

cheir chagrin, the steamer, after a short delay, once more proceeded on her way, 

and this time even more rapidly than before. Fulton had discovered that 

the paddles were too long, and took too deep a hold on the water, and had 

stopped the boat for the purpose of shortening them. 

This defect remedied, the Clermont continued her voyage during 

the rest of the day and all night, without stopping, and at one o'clock the 

next day ran alongside the landing at Clermont, the seat of Chancellor 

Livingston. She lay there until nine the next morning, when she continued 



538 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 

her voyage toward Albany, reaching that city at five in the afternoon. On 
her return trip, she reached New York in thirty hours running time — exactly 
five miles per hour. 

The river was at this time navigated entirely with sailing vessels. The 
surprise and dismay excited among the crews of these vessels by the 

appearance of the steamer was extreme. These simple 
the steam= people beheld what they supposed to be a huge monster, 
boat on River vomiting fire and smoke from its throat, lashing the water 

with its fins, and shaking the river with its roar, approaching 
rapidly in the face of both wind and tide. Some threw themselves flat on 
the decks of their vessels, where they remained in an agony of terror until 
the monster had passed, while others took to their boats and made for the 
shore in dismay, leaving their vessels to drift helplessly down the stream. 

The introduction of the steamboat gave a powerful impetus to the 
internal commerce of the Union. It opened to navigation many important 
rivers whose swift currents had closed them to sailing craft, and made rapid 
and easy communication between the most distant parts of the country 
practicable. The public soon began to appreciate this, and orders came in 
rapidly for steamboats for various parts of the country. Fulton executed 
these as fast as possible, several among the number being for boats on the 
Ohio and Mississippi rivers. 

The subsequent history of this important invention need but be glanced 
at here. The first steamship to cross the ocean was the Savannah, which 
set out from the city of that name in 1819, and reached Liverpool by the 
combined aid of wind and steam in twenty-eight days. The first to cross 
entirely by steam power was the Royal William, a Canadian-built vessel, in 
1833. A year or two later the Great Britain, the first iron ocean steamer — 
322 feet long by 31 feet beam — crossed the ocean in fifteen days. Since then 
the development of steam navigation, alike on inland and ocean waters, has 
been enormous, and an extraordinary increase has been made in the size 
and speed of steam vessels. Forty years ago the fastest ocean steamer 
took more than nine days to cross from New York to Oueenstown. This 
Development journey can be made now in a little over five days. As 
of Ocean regards size, the great Oceanic, whose first voyage was made 

in 1899, surpasses any other boat ever built. This sea- 
monster is 704 feet long, and has a displacement of 28,000 tons, while it 
is capable of steaming around the earth at twelve knots an hour with- 
out recoaling. Its engine power is enormous, and its carrying capacity 
unprecedented. This leviathan considerably outranks in dimensions the Great 



THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 541 

Eastern, the former ocean marvel, and fitly typifies the progress of the century. 
As will he remembered the Great Eastern proveda failure, while the Oceanic 
is a pronounced success. 

Important as has been the invention of the steamboat, it is much 
surpassed by that of the locomotive and the railroad, which have increa 
the ease, cheapness, and rapidity of land travel and freight transportation 
far more than steam navigation has increased traffic by water. While the 
sailing vessel falls short of the steamship as an aid to commerce, the 
difference between the two is very much less than that between the horse 
and the locomotive, the iron rail and the ordinary road, and the railroad has 
achieved a revolution in transportation equal to that made by the steam 
engine in manufacture. 

The motor engine is, aside from the work of Oliver Evans, already 
mentioned, solely a result of nineteenth century enterprise. The railroad 
came earlier, first in the form of tramways of wood ; the earliest iron rails 
being laid in England about 1707. But it was not until after 1800 that an 
attempt was made to replace the horse by the steam carriage on these roads. 
( )f those who sought to solve this problem, George Stephenson, a poor 
English workingman, stands decidedly first. While serving as fireman in a 
colliery, and later as engineer, he occupied himself earnestly in the study of 
machinery, and as early as 1814 constructed for the colliery a traction engine 
with two cylinders. This was seated on a boiler mounted on wheels, which 
were turned by means of chains connected with their axles. It drew eieht 
loaded cars at a speed of four miles an hour. This was a clumsy affair, 
weak in power, and inefficient in service, but it was much superior to any 
other engine then in use, and was improved on greatly by his second engine, 
built the following year, and in which he used the steam blast-pipe. These 
early engines were not much esteemed, and the horse con- (ieorge st hen _ 
tinned to be employed in preference, the first passenger rail- son and the 
road, the Stockton and Darlington, opened in 1S25, being run Locomotive 
by horse-power. Meanwhile Stephenson continued to work on the locomo- 
tive, improving it year after year, until his early ventures were far surpassed 
in efficiency by his later. A French engineer, M. Seguin, in 1836, successfully 
introduced locomotives in which improved appliances for increasing tin- 
draught were employed. At that time, indeed, inventors seem to have been 
actively engaged on this problem, and when the Liverpool and Manchester 
Railway, begun in 1825, offered premiums for the best engines to be run at 
high speed, a number of applicants appeared. The premium was easily won, 
in 1S30, by Stephenson's " Rocket," the most effective locomotive yet 
produced. This antediluvian affair, as it would appear to-day, weighed 
30 



542 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 

only 4 % tons, but was able to draw a load of 17 tons at an average speed 
of fourteen miles an hour, sometimes reaching seventeen miles. When 
The Perform- run a ' one lt attained thirty miles an hour, to the amazement 
ance of the and admiration of the public. It is to George Stephenson 
we owe the locomotive as an effective piece of mechanism. 
"He found it inefficient," says Smiles, "and he made it powerful, efficient 
and useful." 

While these events were taking place in England and France, the new 
idea had taken root in America, and the inventors and engineers of the 
United States set themselves to the development of the problem. Short 
lines of railway, for horse traction, were laid at early dates, the first loco- 
motive, the "Stourbridge Lion," being imported from England and placed 
on a short line at Honesdale, Pa., in 1829. The Baltimore and Ohio, the 
first passenger railroad in the United States, was begun in 1830, and on it 
was tried the earliest American-built locomotive, the production of Peter 
Cooper, the celebrated philanthropist of later years. This was a toy affair, 
First American with a three and a half inch cylinder, an upright tubular boiler 
Railroads and made of old gun barrels, and a fan blower to increase the 
Locomotives d raU o.h t Its weight was two and a half tons. Yet it did not 
lack speed, making the run from Baltimore to Ellicott's Mills, twenty-seven 
miles, in an hour. But the first serviceable American locomotive was the 
" Best Friend," built at West Point, N. Y., and run on the Charleston and 
Hamburg Road, in South Carolina, in 1830, shortly after Stephenson's 
"Rocket" had been tried. The "Best Friend" could make more than 
thirty miles an hour, and could draw a train of four or five coaches, with 
forty to fifty passengers, at twenty miles an hour. It was inferior to the 
" Rocket," however, in design, and its career came to a sudden end through 
the zeal of a negro fireman, who sat on the safety valve to stop the escape 
of steam. The fireman shared the fate of the locomotive. 

Such was the railroad as it began, — a microscopic event. To day it is 

of telescopic magnitude. At the end of 1831 there were less than a hundred 

miles of railroad in the United States, and probably still fewer 

|)evelopmeiUof e ] sew i iere _ j\ t t i ie enc j f t h e centu ry this country alone had 

over iSo,ooo miles of railroad, while there were single railroad 
systems with more than 8000 miles of track. In the whole world there were 
about 450,000 miles of road, — only two and a half times the mileage of the 
United States. 

As for the development of the locomotive, the railroad carriage, the 
track, etc., it has been enormous, and sixty miles an hour for passenger 
trains is now a common speed, while the numbers of people and tons of 



THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 



513 



freight transported annually by the railroads of the world are incredibly 
great. We cannot here undertake to describe the notable feats of engineer- 
ing which have carried railroads over rivers and chasms, over mountains 
impassable otherwise except by sure-footed mules, across deserts too hot and 
diyeven for mule trains. "No heights seem too great to-day, no valleys too 
deep, no canons too forbidding, no streams too wide; if commerce demands 
it the engineer will respond and the railways will be built." The railroad 
bridges of the country would make a continuous structure from New York 
to San Francisco, and include many of the boldest and most original, as 
well as the longest and highest, bridges in the world. The pioneer railroad 
suspension bridge at Niagara Falls was as remarkable in its 
day for boldness and originality as fordimensions and success. r,r ^ a . t Ra,,road 

} a j ^ Bridges 

A single span of 821 feet, supported by four cables, carri 

the track 245 feet above the river that rushed beneath. The cables were 
supported by masonry towers, whose slow disintegration gave occasion for 
an engineering feat even more notable than the original construction of the 
Frit b-e. The lirst railroad bridge across the Ohio was at Steubenville, com- 
pleted in 1S66; the first iron bridge over the Upper Mississippi was the 
Burlington bridge of 1S69. The first great bridge across the Mississippi 
was Fads' magnificent structure at St. Louis, whose beautiful steel arches 
of over 500 feet span each give no hint of the difficult problems that had to 
be solved before a permanent bridge was possible at that point. It was 
completed in 1874. Since then the great river has been frequently bridged 
for railroads, while its great branch, the Missouri, has been crossed by bridges 
in a dozen places. 

The steam railroad has been supplemented by the electric street rail- 
way, which at the close of the century was being extended at a highly 
promising rate. Passenger travel in cities by aid oi the horse railway was 
inaugurated about the middle of the century, the horse beginning to be 
replaced by the electric motor in 1SS1, when the first railway of this char- 
acter was laid in Berlin. A second was laid in Ireland in 18S3. But the 
electric steel railway has made its greatest progress in the United States, 
where the lirst line went into operation at Richmond, Va., in iSSS. This 
adopted the overhead trolly system, since so widely employed, and the 
length of line had increased to over 3,000 miles in 1S92 and 
1=;, 000 miles in 1807. Since that date the progress of electric Th J: B ! e I c , tn 1 c 

*> ■" . Steel Railway 

railways has been enormous, they being extended from the 

cities far into the country, where they come into active competion with 
the steam roads. Electric locomotives are also in use, and the twentieth 



544 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 

century is likely to see a development of electric traction which will have 
the whole earth for its field, and may perhaps displace the steam road, the 
great triumph in transportation of the nineteenth century. 

Other recent devices for swift travel are the bicycle, which came extra- 
ordinarily into use during the last quarter of the century, and the automobile 
carriage, whose era only fairly began as the century reached its end. It is 
The Bicycle m t ' le direction of the latter and of aerial travel that the 

and the twentieth century will perhaps achieve its most notable 

triumphs in this field. As for the horse, man's most useful 

servant at the beginning of the century, it was rapidly being displaced at 

the end, and may during the century to come cease to be employed in the 

service of man. 

The story of railroading leads naturally to that of progress in iron and 
steel work generally, which has been extraordinary during the century. Of 
inventions in this direction perhaps the most notable is the Bessemer steel- 
making process, which converts iron into steel by the direct addition of the 
necessary quantity of carbon, and has had the important result of making 
steel cheaper to-day than iron was not very many years ago. In iron- 
working machinery the progress has been very great, and in no other field 
has the genius of the American inventor been more conspicuously dis- 
Marvels in Iron played. The same may be said of wood-working machinery, 

and Wood- in which the most clever mechanism is employed. The result 
is that many articles in metal and wood, of the most varied and 
useful kinds, formerly almost unattainable by the rich, are now within 
the easy reach of the poor, and the comfort and convenience of common 
life to-day are enormously in advance of those enjoyed by our ancestors of a 
century ago. 

As it is impossible to name all the inventions which conduce to this 
increase in convenience, it will perhaps suffice to name one alone, the 
friction match, that most useful of small contrivances, which has relegated 
into the museum of antiquities the slow and clumsy flint and steel to which 
the world was for centuries confined. This invention, gradually developed 
in various countries, owes its cheapness largely to the invention of an 
American, whose patent, taken out in 1S36, first made possible the produc- 
tion of phosphorus matches on a large scale. 

Mention of the friction match opens to us one broad vista of nine- 
teenth century progress, too great to be more than glanced at. This 
embraces the replacement of wood by coal for heating purposes, the devel- 
opment of the stove, the furnace, the coal-burning grate, and various con- 
veniences of like character. As regards the tallow candle, which was in 



THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 545 

common use during the first third of the century, it seems as antiquated 
new as the pyramids. Various kinds of oil succeeded it as pi-ogress in 
illuminants, until the discovery of petroleum set them all Illumination 
aside, and gave the world one of its most useful natural 
products. Then came the illuminating gas, and finally the wonderful electric 
light, whose brilliant glow lighted up the, threshold of the twentieth 
century. Petroleum, gas and electricity arc also beginning to replace 
coal for heating and cooking purposes, — as coal replaced wood, — and an out- 
look into the future seems to reveal to us the marvelous electric energy per- 
forming these and a thousand other services ; this energy yielded, not as now, 
by costly fuel dug from the earth, but by power derived from falling water, 
from moving air, from swelling tides and flowing currents, and even from 
the direct light ami heat of the sun. 

We cannot undertake to describe in detail the inventions of the cen- 
tury, even all those of great service to mankind. A mere inventory of these 
would more than fill this chapter, and we must confine ourselves to the 
notable ones of American origin. Among the most important of these 
may he named the sewing machine, a device gradually approached through 
a century of effort, but not made workable until a poor me- Howe and the 
chanic named Elias Howe attacked the problem, and worked SewingAia- 
it out through years of penury and disappointment. It was 
the lock-stitch and shuttle to which he owed his success, but these devices, 
patented by him in 1846, were pirated by wealthy corporations, and years of 
litigation were necessary before he' gained his rights. lb- finally obtained 
a royalty of live dollars for each machine made up to i860, and, after the 
renewal of his patent in that year, one dollar for each machine. The num- 
bers produced were- sufficient to make him very wealth}', and by the time 
the original patents expired, in 1877. over six million machines had been 
produced ami sold by American manufacturers alone. Aside from the 
number of sewing machines now used in families, those used in factories 
are estimated to give employment, throughout the world, to over 20.000,00c 
women. 

Another American invention of the greatest utility '.s that of vulcanized 
India-rubber, the production of a poor man named Charles Goodyear, who, 
like Howe, spent years of his life and endured semi-starvation while persis- 
tently experimenting. Beginning in 1834, it was 1S39 before, Q 00l iy C arand 
after innumerable failures, he discovered the secret of vul- the Vulcaniza- 
canizing the rubber by means of sulphur. Before that date 
the softening effect of heat rendered rubber practically useless, but the 
vulcanized rubber produced by Goodyear was, before his death in i860. 



54^ THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 

applied to nearly five hundred purposes, and gave employment to 60,000 
persons in Europe and the United States. Since then its utility has very 
greatly increased, and its recent employment for bicycle and carriage tires 
opens up a new field for its use which must enormously increase the 
demand. 

Another of the famous inventions of the century, the electric tele- 
graph, usually attributed to Samuel Finley Morse, should really be credited 
to the labors of several scientists both in Europe and America. The men': 

of Morse lay, not in the discovery of the principle of electric 
Morse and the , . , , . . ,._ , . . . . . , ... 

Telegraph telegraphy, but in his simplified telegraphic alphabet, which 

has nearly driven out all other devices and has made its way 
throughout the world. Morse's first line, completed in 1844, was the 
pioneer of a development analogous to that of the railroad. To-day the 
telegraph runs over all continents and under almost all seas, the length of the 
telegraph lines in the world at the end of the century being over 
5,000,000 miles, of which more than half were in America. The tele- 
phone — the marvelous talking telegraph — invented by Alexander Bell and 
developed in the final quarter of the century, now has over half a million 
miles of wire in the United States. 

The mention of the telegraph and telephone calls to our attention one 
of the ablest and most prolific of American inventors, the indefatigable 
Thomas Alva Edison, to whom are due important discoveries in multiplex 
telegraphy — the sending of various messages at once over a single wire — in 

telephony, in the incandescent electric light, and other fields 
The Inventions , 1 at •• r i ■ v ■ • 1 

of Edison °* research. Most surprising 01 his many discoveries is the 

marvelous phonograph, by which the sounds of the human 

voice may be put on permanent record, to speak again in their original 

tones years or centuries hence. 

Other inventors have been active in this field, and extraordinary prog- 
ress has been made in systems of telegraph)', some of the new inventions 
being capable of remarkable feats in the rapid sending of messages, while 
it is possible now to transmit pictures as well as words over the telegraphic 
wire. 

So vast, indeed, has been the advance in this field of practical science, 
so many the applications and devices employed, and so wonderful the results, 
that it seemed as if the powers of telegraphy must be exhausted, when, at 
the very end of the century, one of its most remarkable results was 
announced, as the discovery of a young Italian named Marconi. This was 
the method of "wireless telegrapy," the sending of messages through the 
air without the aid of connecting wires. This discovery, like most others, 



THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 547 

cannot be credited to one man alone. A number of scientists were experi- 
menting with it simultaneously, but to Marconi is due the honor of a 
successful ami practical solution of tin; problem. It has long been known 
that electric energy can produce effects through space by the influence 
known as induction, in which a moving current causes a reverse ^ arcon i an( j 
current to appear in a neighboring wire. By aid of the Wireless 
very powerful currents now produced this effect may be shown e egxap y 
at a considerable distance. Whether the action in wireless telegraphy 
is the result of induction, or of a direct passage of electricity through 
space, must be left for scientists to decide, but the results are astonishing, 
messages having been sent and received over distances of many miles. It 
is not well to state how many miles, since the system is still in its infancy, and 
before many years have elapsed, tor all that can now be affirmed to the con- 
trary, a message ma)- be sent in this manner from America to Europe. 

Wireless telegraphy is a combination of science and invention. Scien- 
tifically the electric waves appear to flow out through the air in all directions 
from the powerful currents employed. Mechanically a lofty pole seems 
necessarv, and it may become possible, by a directive contrivance, to send the 
M .v. es in a fixed course. In the Marconi contrivance, the electric waves, when 
received, are made to pass through a vial containing metal filings, which are 
caused to cohere so as to furnish a direct line of passage for the current. 
Marconi's special invention is a small tapper which strikes the vial of filings 
and causes them to fall asunder, thus breaking the current. The public at 
large, however, is likely to be more interested in results than methods, and 
in the system of wireless telegraphy there is promise of a development that 
may supplant all existing telegraphic systems during the century upon whose 
threshold we stand. 

In no field of effort have inventors been more active or their results 
more useful than in the production of labor-saving devices in agriculture. 
In these we have to do with the yield of food, the very corner-stone of life 
itself, and whatever seems to increase the product of the fields, Labor-saving 
or to cheapen the necessaries of life, is of the most direct and Agricultural 
immediate utility to mankind. This subject, therefore, one of mpemen s 
vital interest to all the farmers of our country, calls for special notice here. 

Great inventions are not necessarily large or costly. The scythe is a 
simple and inexpensive tool; yet the practical perfecting of it by Joseph 
Jenks, almost at the outset of farm-life in New England, formed an epoch- 
mark in agriculture. It was the beginning of a new order of things. Put- 
ting curved lingers to the improved scythe-blade and snath did for the 
harvester what had been done for the grass-cutter, gave him an implement 



548 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 

which doubled or trebled his efficiency at a critical season, and furnished in 
the American grain cradle a farm-tool perfect of its kind, and 
Early Farming \\\^ e \y to hold its place as long as grain is grown on uneven 
ground. For the great bulk of grain and grain-cutting, the 
scythe and the cradle have been displaced by later American inventions, — 
mowers and harvesters, operated by animal or steam power, — still they are 
likely to remain forever a part of every farm's equipment. Their utility is 
beyond computation. 

The plow supplied to. the Colonial farmers, was as venerable as the 
reaping-hook. It had been substantially unimproved for four thousand 
years. The moment our people were free to manufacture for themselves, 
they set about its improvement in form and material, the very first patent 
granted by the National Patent Office being for an improved plow of cast- 
iron. The best plow then in use was a rude affair, clumsily made, hard to 
guide, and harder to draw. It had a share of wrought iron, roughly shaped 
by the roadside black-smith, a landside and standard of wood, and an ill- 
shaped mould-board plated with tin, sheet iron, or worn-out saw-plates. 
Only a stout man could hold it, and a yoke of oxen was needed for work 
that a colt can do with a modern plow. Its improvement engaged the atten- 
tion of many inventors, notably President Jefferson, who experimented with 
various forms and made a mathematical investigation of the shape of the 
mould-board, to determine the form best suited for the work. He was tne 
first to discover the importance of straight lines from the sole to the top of 
the share and mould-board. Pinckney discovered the value of a straight 
line from front to rear. Jethro Wood discovered that all lines, from front 
to rear, should be straight. The method of drafting the lines, on a plane 
surface, in designing plows, is due to Knox. The discovery of the import- 
ance of the centre-draught, and the practical means of attaining it by the 

_, „ inclination of the landside inward, is credited to Mears. Gov- 

Tne Develop- 
ment of the ernor Holbrook, of New Hampshire, devised the method of 

American making plows of any size symmetrical, so as to ensure the 

complete pulverization of the soil. Col. Randolph, Jefferson's 
son-in-law, "the best farmer in Virginia," invented a side-hill plow. Smith 
was the first to hitch two plows together; and Allen, by combining a num- 
ber of small plow-points in one implement, led the way to the production of 
the infinite variety of horse-hoes, cultivators, and the like, for special use. 
But Jethro Wood, of New York, in 1819 and after, probably did more than 
any other man to perfect the cast-iron plow, and to secure its general use 
in place of the cumbrous plows of the earlier days. His skill as an inventor, 
and his pluck as a fighter against stolid ignorance and prejudice, for the 



THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 549 

advancement of sensible plowing, cost him — -what they ought to have gained 

for him — a fortune. The use of cast-iron plows had become general by 

1825. 

The construction of plows has since been taken up by a multitude of 

inventors, the most valuable of improvements, probably, coming through 

the use of chilled iron, and the most promising from the application of 

steam-power to plowing. The increase in the working power 

of the farmer, from American improvements in plows, may be Working 

estimated from the fact that two million plowmen, with as Power of 

... . ... . . the Parmer 

many teams, would need to work every day in the year with 

the primitive plow to prep, ire the soil annually under cultivation in this 

country. It would be impossible, under the ancient system, to do this 

work within the brief plowing season. 

The era of agricultural machinery began about 1825, its earliest pause 
appearing in the application of horse-power to the threshing and cleaning 
of grain. Already the American tendency to seek practical results by 
the simplest means, and to make high-priced labor profitable by increasing 
its efficiency, hud been shown in the improvement of a wide range of farm- 
er's tools, almost everything they had to use being made- lighter, neater. 
and more serviceable. The same improving, practical sense was displayed 
in devising more complicated labor-saving machines, which made it possible 
to do easily and directly what had been previously difficult or quite impos- 
sible to do. Too often, however, the early inventor was defeated by the 
lack of skilled labor and proper machine tools for making his improvements 
commercially successful. As soon as the mechanic arts had been sufficiently 
perfected and extended — largely by American genius — the development and 
production of agricultural machinery became rapid and profitable. 

Washington had tried a sort of threshing machine .is early as 1798; 

and one of the first patents issued by the Patent ( )ffice was for an improved 

thresher; yet the flail held the field until after 1825. In the following 

twenty-five years over two hundred patents were -ranted for improvements 

in threshers, and since then the. patents have numbered thou- Threshj 

sands. By 1S40, most of the grain was threshed by horse- Machines 

driven machinery. In 1853, when a famous trial of rival andTheir 

, , , , . ... Performance 

threshers was held in England, the American machine did 

three times as much as the best English machine, and did it better. In a 
subsequent trial in France, the average work of experts with the flail being 
reckoned as one, that of the best French machine, was twenty-five; of the 
best English machine, forty-one ; while Pitt's American machine did the 



550 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 

work of seventy-four. The application of steam-power greatly increased 
the efficiency of threshing machines, raising the output from perhaps 2,000 
bushels a day to six or seven thousand for a single machine. 

Still more significant and important have been the victories of Amer- 
ican inventors in connection with mowers and reapers. The circumstance 
that reaping by machinery is as old as the Christian era, and that a multi- 
tude of comparatively modern attempts have been made, particularly it- 
England, to apply horse-power to the cutting of grass and grain, only added 
to the merit of inventors like Hussey and McCormick, who practically 
solved the problems involved by means so simple and efficient that they 
The American have not been and are likely never to be entirely displaced. 
Reapers and Hussey's mowing machine of 1833 had reciprocating knives 
working through slotted fingers, a feature not only new but 
essential to all practical grass and grain cutters, except the special type 
known as lawn-mowers. McCormick patented a combination reaper and 
mower in 1S34, which he subsequently so improved as to make it the neces- 
sary basis of all reapers. In competitive trials at home and abroad, the 
American mowers and reapers have never failed to demonstrate their 
superiority over all others. 

The first great victory, which gave these machines the world-wide fame 
they have so successfully maintained, was won in London in 1S51. In the 
competitive trial near Paris, in 1855, the American machine cut an acre of 
oats in twenty-two minutes; the English in sixty-six minutes; the French 
in seventy-two. In the later competition, local and international, their 
superior efficiency has been not less signally manifested. By increasing 
the efficiency of the harvester twenty-fold (and twice that by the self- 
binders), these products of American invention have played a part second 
only to railroads in opening up the West to profitable cultivation, rapidly 
converting a wilderness into the granary of the world. Devices for bind- 
ing grain as it was cut began to be developed about 1855. 
Harvesters and yj ie ^ rst j^^^jng usec j w j re binders; the later twine. The 
belf-bmders ' 

combination of reapers and threshers in one machine has been 

most largely developed in California. The largest in use there weighs eight 
tons ; and, pushed by thirty mules, cuts a swath twenty-two feet wide and 
eighteen miles long in a day — over forty-eight acres, yielding about as many 
tons of wheat, which is cut, threshed, cleaned and deposited in 700 sacks. 
The machine employs a driver, a shearer, a knife-tender, and a sack-lowerer 
— four men, costing eight dollars a day for wages. 

Less important individually, yet in the aggregate of incalculable assist- 
ance to agriculture, have been a multitude of American inventions intended 



THE TRIUMPHS OF IXVENTION 



551 



to expedite and lighten the farmer's work — stump and stone extractors 
for clearing the ground, ditching machines for drainage systems, fencing 
devices, particularly the barbed wire fence, special plows for breaking up 
new ground, harrows of many types, seeders, planters, culti- _. . 

j . 1 r The (ireat 

vators, horse rakes, hay tedders and hay loaders, potato and Variety of 

rock diggers, corn buskers and shellers, cotton pickers, and Agricultural 
. 111 1 it 1 Implements 

counties-, other labor-saving tools and devices. In most cases 
these improved appliances enable one man to do easily the work of several 
working with primitive tools. With the help of machine planters and 
seeders the farmer's work is made at least five times more efficient ; with 
cultivators, ten times; with potato diggers, twenty; with harrowers, thirty; 
with mowers and harvesters, from twenty to lifty ; with corn huskers and 
shellers, a hundred. The latest cotton harvester, employing a team, a 
driver, and a helper, does the work of forty hand-pickers. 

These agricultural machines, by greatly cheapening all food products, 
have had a wider influence, probably, than any other group of American 
inventions. In connection with improvements in means of transportation — 
largely o< American origin — they have changed the food conditions of half 
the world, making food more abundant, more varied, more wholesome, more 
secure, and vastly cheaper than ever before. At the same time they have 
lightened the farmer's labor, shortened his hours oi toil, increased his gains, 
and quite transformed his social ami industrial position. 

The marvelous evolution in the nineteenth century, of which we have 
mentioned only some of the more notable particulars, the whole story being 
far too voluminous to deal with hen-, has had the result of immensely increas- 
ing the wealth of the world and the cheapness and rapid distribution of pro- 
ducts, and of placing within the ready control of mankind hundreds of 
articles of art and utility scarcely dreamed of a century ago. In textile 
production, in metal working, in the making of furniture, clothing and other 
articles of ordinary use, in heating and illumination, in travel and transporta- 
tion of goods, farm operations, engineering, mining and PnK , tj 
excavation, and the production of the tools of peace and the Activity of the 
weapons of war, in ways, indeed, too numerous to mention, the Nineteenth 

• • • 1 , • 1 • 1 f \ ■ 1 Century 

inventive activity and the industrial energy ot the nineteenth 

century have added enormously to the variety and abundance of useful 

objects at man's disposal, increased his wealth to an extraordinary extent, 

and enabled him to move over land and sea with marvelous ease and 

Speed, and to semi information around the world with a rapidity that 

almost annihilates time and space. 



552 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 

Not the least among the results of modern mechanical progress is the 
vast development in commerce, and particularly in that of the Anglo-Saxon 
people — the inhabitants of Great Britain and the United States — the com- 
mercial enterprise of which countries is nowhere else equalled. The ocean 
commerce of the United States, for instance, has nearly doubled within thirty 
years, and now amounts to nearly $2,000,000,000 worth of goods annually, 
two-thirds of which are articles of export. But this great sum 

Commerceof the j r from indicating the actual commerce of this country, 
United States ... & .... , 

since it is greatly surpassed by its interior commerce, the 

movement of goods by aid of river, canal, and railroad from part to part of 

the vast area of the United States, the extent of which commerce it is 

impossible even to estimate. 

The statement of a single fact will suffice to put in striking prominence 

the result of this in increasing the value of property and the wealth of 

the people of this country. In the year 1801, the opening year of the 

century, the ideas entertained of riches differed remarkably from what they 

do now. At that time it is doubtful if there was a person in this country 

worth more than a quarter million of dollars. Thirty years afterwards, 

Stephen Girard, with an estate of about nine million dollars, was looked 

upon as a prodigy of wealth, and his reputation as a man of immense riches 

spread round the world. In 1900, the closing year of the century, there 

were single estates worth more than two hundred million dollars, and the 

number of millionaires in the United States could be counted 

Wealth and its by the hundreds. As regards the largest estates possessed 
Sources J & ° y 

in 1 80 1, there are thousands among; us with greater wealth 

to-day, while the general average of property possessed by our citizens has 
very greatly advanced. 

If it be asked in what this wealth consists, it may be said that the rail- 
road property of the country alone suffices to account for a considerable 
proportion of it. The assets of the railroads of the United States are 
alued at over $12,000,000,000, and the annual profits of their business 
amounts to a very great sum. Another immense source of wealth is the 
landed property of the United States, the annual product of which alone is 
worth over $3,000,000,000. A third great element of wealth consists in the 
dwellings and other buildings of cities and towns ; and a fourth in the build- 
ings and machinery of manufacturing enterprises, whose annual products 
alone are valued at more than $10,000,000,000. It will suffice here to name 
a fifth great source of wealth, our mines and their productions, particularly 
those of coal, iron and precious metals. The annual yield of coal alone is 
worth more than $200,000,000; that of iron more than $90,000,000; those of 



v 



THE TRJl -J//V/S < >/■- IN I 'ENTION 553 

gold and silver more than $100,000,000. To these maybe added an annual 
production of nearly $60,000,000 worth of copper, and as much ol petroleum 
and its products — each of which nearly equals gold in value, — $12,000,000 
worth of lead, and lame values of other minerals; the grand total being 
aver $750,000,000. 

If these figures should be extended to cover the world, the total 
sum of values would be something astounding. What we are principally 
concerned with here is the fact that this vast total of wealth is Expansion of 
very largely the result of nineteenth century enterprise, and Vaiues During 
mainly as applied in Europe and the northern section of North tlL ' Ct -" n ur y 
America. What the percentage oi increase in value has been it is quite 
impossible to state, but the wealth of the world as a whole is probably m 
than double what it was a century ago, while that of such expanding coun- 
tries as the United States has increased in a vastly greater proportion. 
That this growth in wealth will go on during the twentieth century cannot be 
doubted, but that the proportionate rate ol increase will equal that of the 
century now at its end may well be questioned, the inventive activity and 
application of nature's forces within this century having reached a develop- 
ment which seems to preclude as great a future rate of progress. The 
nineteenth may, therefore, perhaps remain the banner century in material 
progress. 



CHAPTER XXXVIIL 

The Evolution in Industry and the Revolt 
Against Capital. 

INDUSTRY in the past centuries was a strikingly different thing from 
what it has been in the recent period. For a century it has been pass- 
ing through a great process of evolution, which has by no means 
reached its culmination, and whose final outcome no man can safely predict. 
For a long period during the mediaeval and the subsequent centuries 
industry existed in a stable condition, or one whose changes were few and 
The Conditions none °f them revolutionary. Manufacture was in a large 
of MedisEval sense individual. The great hive of industry known as a fac- 
industry tQ1 .y jjj not ex j st) workshops being small and every expert 

mechanic able to conduct business as a master. Employees were mainly 
apprentices, each of whom expected to become a master mechanic, or, if he 
chose to work for a master, did so with an independence that no longer 
exists. The workshop was usually a portion of the dwelling, where the master 
worked with his apprentices, teaching them the whole art and mystery of 
his craft, and giving them knowledge of a complete trade, not of a minor 
portion of one as in our day. 

The trade-union had its prototype in the guild. But this was in no 
sense a combination of labor for protection against capital, but of master 
workmen to protect their calling from being swamped by invasion from 
without. In truth, when we go back into the past centuries, it is to find 
ourselves in another world of labor, radically different from that which sur- 
rounds us to-day. 

It was the steam-engine that precipitated the revolution. This great 
invention rendered possible labor-saving machinery. From working directly 

upon the material, men began to work indirectly through the 
The Cause of l to 11^ 

the Revolu- medium of machines: As a result the old household indus- 

tion in the tries rapidly disappeared. Engines and machines needed spe- 
cial buildings to contain them and large sums of money to 
purchase them, the separation of capital and labor began, and the nine- 
teenth century opened with the factory system fully launched upon the world. 

554 



E VOL UTIOX IN IND USTK V 555 

The century with which we are concerned is the one of vast accumula- 
tions of capital in single hands or under the control of companies, the 
concentration of labor in factories and workshops, the extraordinary 
development of labor-saving machines, the growth of monopolies on the 
one hand and of labor unions on the other, the revolt of labor against 
the tyranny of capital, the battle for shorter hours and higher wages, the 
coming of woman into the labor field as a rival of man, the development of 
economic theories and industrial organizations, and in still p res ent Aspect 
other ways the growth of a state of affairs in the world of of the Labor 
industry that had no counterpart in the past, and which we Q uest,on 
hope may not extend far into the future, since it involves a condition of 
anarchy, injustice, and violence that is certainly not calculated to advance 
the interests of mankind. 

In past times wealth was largely accumulated in the hands of the 
nobility, who had no thought of using it productively. Such of it as lay 
under the control of the commonalty was applied mainly for commercial 
purposes and in usury, and comparatively little was used in manufacture. 
This state of affairs came somewhat suddenly to an end with the invention 
of the steam-engine and of labor-saving machinery. Capital 
was largely diverted to purposes of manufacture, wealth grew ' , ,'" ! " 

& J L ' -^ In Industry 

rapidly as a result of the new methods of production, the 
making of articles cheaply required costly plants in buildings and machinery 
which put it beyond the reach of the ordinary artisan, the old individuality 
in labor disappeared, the number of employers largely diminished and that 
of employees increased, and the mediaeval guild vanished, the workmen 
finding themselves exposed to a state of affairs unlike that for which then- 
old organizations were devised. 

A radically new condition of industrial affairs had come, and the 
industrial class was not prepared to meet it. Everywhere the employers 
became supreme and the men were at their mercy. Labor was dismayed. 
Its unions lost their industrial character and resumed their original form of 
purely benevolent associations. Such was the state: of atlairs in the early 
years of the nineteenth century. Industry was in a stage of transition, and 
inevitably suffered from the change. It was only at a later date that the 
idea of mutual aid in industry revived, and the trade union — a new form of 
association adapted to the new situation — arose as the lineal successor of 
the old society of artisans. 

The trade union resembles the old industrial association in general char- 
acter, and in modes of action, but is much more extensive and concentrated in 
organization and far-seeing in management, in accordance with the vast 



556 EVOLUTION IN INDUSTRY 

expansion of industries and the changed relations of the workingman. 

The new form of association was not welcomed by the employers, who 

scented danger afar. They attacked it in the press, in the 
The Trade Union , . , , , , . i n i i 

legislature, and by every means at their command, out the trade 

union had come to stay, hostile legislation failed to destroy it, and the 

opposition of employers to check its growth. It slowly, but steadily 

advanced, increased in strength and unity of purpose, gained legislative: 

recognition, and in time became a legally protected institution and one of 

the powerful forces in modern industry. 

The trade union had its origin in England, in which country the modern 
conditions of industry rapidly gained a great development. It appeared in 
a crude form near the end of the eighteenth century, one of the earliest 
societies known being the " Institution," established by the cloth-workers of 
Halifax in 1796. Many other unions were formed during the first twenty 
years of the nineteenth century, in spite of persecution and attempts at re- 
pression. It was not until 1825, however, that they gained legal recognition, 
and not until 1871 that they obtained permanent protection for their property 
and funds. Some of the earlier unions still survive, though many changes 
have taken place in their constitution. 

In 1850 a new departure was taken, in the formation of the Amalgam- 
ated Society of Engineers, one of the most perfect types of a trade union 
in the world. It is organized for the mutual benefit of its members as w-ell 
as for protection against oppression by employers, and the annual tax upon 
Progress and ' ts members for various purposes amounts to as much as 
Purpose of $15.00 per year, often more. Others of the same character 
followed, and in all there are about 2,000 trade unions in 
Great Britain and Ireland, with a membership of nearly 2,250,000, and an 
annual income of about $10,000,000. 

The purposes of the union are various. The mutual aid and benefit 
feature is secondary to the protective purpose, which is to secure the most 
favorable conditions of labor that can be obtained. This includes efforts to 
raise wages and to prevent their fall, reduction of hours of labor and pre 
vention of their increase, the regulation of apprentices, overtime, piecework, 
and many other difficulties which arise in the complicated relations of labor 
and capital. 

It is generally acknowledged that the trade union has reached its 
highest state of organization and power in Great Britain, and that the 
British workman, in consequence, controls the situation more fully than in 
any other country. This form of organization has only of late years 
appeared on the continent of Europe, freedom to combine having been denied 




THE HERO OF THE STRIKE, COAL CREEK, TENN. 

[n 1892 a period ofgreatlabor agitation began, lasting for si f the roost heroic figures of those 

troublesome times Dg the infuriated mini • >cek. 




D 60 

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•" ° S 

S -s-S 



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2£ 

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E 



El -QLUTION IN INDUSTRY 559 

to workmen in most countries until late in the century. There are excellent 
unions in the Australian colonies, both these ami those of the mother coun- 
try being superior in organization and influence to the trade unions of the 
United . States, though those of the latter country have gained much in 
power and cohesion in recent years. 

The first great combination of all trades was the International YVork- 

ingmen's Association, founded in London in 1847, and in- _ . 

... The Interna- 

tended to combine the industrial classes throughout Europe. tional Work- 
Dr. Karl Marx gave it a definite organization on the con- logmen's As- 
tinent in 1864. hut it was there warped widely trom its orig- 
inal purpose, became a held for anarchists, and came to an end in 1872. In 
the United States a general organization called the Knights of Labor was 
formed in 1869, and at one time had a membership of a million, but has 
now greatly decreased, being largely replaced by the American Federation 
of Labor, an association of trade unions of very large membership. Of 
single trade organizations probably the most powerful in this country is the 
Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners, with more than 60,000 members. 
The International Typographical Union, the oldest in America, has a 
membership of over 40,000, and there are many others of great strength. 

The weapon of offense with which the labor organization seeks to gain 
its ends is the strike, in which the artisans quit work for the purpose of 
forcing employers to grant their demands, and endeavor to prevent others 
from taking their place. The reverse of this is the lock-out, an expedient 
adopted by capitalists for the purpose of obliging workmen to yield to 
their demands. 

During the century under consideration strikes have been very numer- 
ous both in England and America, many of them of great dimensions and 
serious results. It must suffice to speak of some of the more important 
of those within the United States. In 1803 occurred a strike of sailors 

in New York, often spoken of as the first strike in this 

... The System of 
country, though there seem to have been several in the the strike 

preceding century. A strike of Philadelphia shoemakers 
took place in 1S05 and one of New York cordwainers in 1809, while as time 
went on strikes became frequent, with varying results of success and 
failure. Violence was at times resorted to, and in the early days strikers 
were tried for conspiracy. As population increased and labor associa- 
tions became stronger, strikes grew greatly in dimensions, and were fre- 
quently attended with bloodshed ami destruction. Such was the case 
with the famous railroad strike of 1S77, which interrupted traffic over great 
part of the country for a week, and resulted in acts of sanguinary violence at 



5 6o EVOLUTION IN INDUSTRY 

Pittsburg. There a lawless mob joined the strikers, the militia were 

attacked and lives were lost, and the railroad buildings 
Great American , 111 1 1 1 • 1 

Strikes an " cars were burned, the total loss being estimated at 

$5,000,000. The coal miners of Pennsylvania joined the 

strike, and in all about 150,000 men stopped work. 

Since that date strikes have been very numerous and some of them of 
great proportions. Among these, one of the most notable was that which 
began in Chicago on May 1, 18S6, in which fully 40,000 men took part. On 
the 4th, when the disorder was at its height, a meeting of Anarchists was held, 
in the streets, which the police attempted to disperse on account of the violent 
and threatening language used. While doing so a dynamite bomb was 
thrown in their midst, which killed several and wounded about sixty of the 
officers. This action was denounced by workingmen throughout the 
country and excited general horror and detestation. 

Another serious strike took place at the Carnegie Steel-Works, at 
Homestead, Pa., in 1892, which was also attended with bloodshed, the 
workmen firing on a force of detectives hired to protect the works. The 
disturbance became so great that the whole military force of Pennsylvania 
had to be called out. Two years afterwards Chicago was the scene of a great 
railroad strike, directed against the Pullman Car Works of that city. The 
movement of trains was greatly interfered with, and in the end President 
Cleveland sent United States troops to Chicago to maintain order and pro- 
tect the movement of the mails. 

That the difficulty between capital and labor will ever be settled by the 

strike and the lock-out cannot be expected, though these methods of warfare 

have had the effect of producing some degree of wholesome fear on both 

sides, and of rendering each more likely to offer concessions 
Arbitration and . • , 1 ■ , 1 1 1 r 1 • r at 

Profit Sharing than to indulge in a costly and doubtful strite. A disposition 

to replace violent measures by peaceful arbitration is grow- 
ing up, while in some instances employers have agreed to share a portion of 
their profits with their employees. This system of profit sharing, origi- 
nating in France, has been extended to other countries, and appears to heive 
proved very generally successful. Workmen act as if they were real 
partners in the business, and had their own interests to serve. They do 
more and better work, and are more careful in the use of tools and mate- 
rials, so that in some instances the increased profit arising from their 
carefulness and diligence has covered their share of the proceeds, leaving 
that of their employers undiminished. Strikes have almost ceased to exist 
in such institutions, and the future of profit-sharing is full of promise. 



E VOL UTh W IN INDUSTR Y 5 6i 

But expedients which leave the existing system practically unchanged 
can have only a temporary and partial utility. The cause of the difficulty 
appears to lie deeper and to call for more radical changes. It is not easy to 
believe that a system of perpetual protest and frequent strife is Experiments 
a natural one, and it seems as if it must in the future he and Theories 
replaced by some more peaceful and satisfactory relation be- m conomics 
tween capital and labor. During the nineteenth century the labor problem 
has given rise to a number of experiments and theories looking towards its 
solution, an account of which is here in place-. 

The chief of the experiments alluded to is that of co-operation, the 
association of workingmen as producers, a democratic organization of labor 
calculated, if successfully instituted, to bring the present system to an end, 
and replace it by one in which the division into employer and employee, 
capitalist and artisan, will cease to exist, each workman embracing both of 
these in his single person, the combined property of the group representing 
the capital of the concern and the profits being equitably divided. This 
seemingly promising solution of the problem has not hitherto proved satis- 
factory in practice". In most cases experience and skill in management have 
been wanting, and the placing of ambitious and influential members of the 
association in the positions of business manager and financier, regardless of 
their adaptation to these duties, has wrecked more than one promising 
co-operative concern. 

But while most of such manufacturing associations of workingmen 
have failed, some have succeeded, and the story of the latter seems to show 
that there is nothing false in the principle, the failure being due to the 
results of injudicious management, as above indicated. The successful 
associations have accumulated large capital, pay good dividends, and are 
noted for the honesty of their operations and the unusual 
industry of their members, each of whom feels that the profit °A°^cfations 
from increased or superior product will come to himself. Of 
co-operative institutions now in existence, the most famous is that of the 
Rochdale Pioneers, founded at Rochdale, England, in 1S44. This associa- 
tion, organized by twenty-eight poor weavers with a capital of twenty-eight 
pounds, at first as a distributive enterprise, is now a rich and flourishing 
institution, which adds manufacturing to its distributive interests. 

At first these poor pioneers, who had very slowly collected their small 
capital of one pound each, opened a store to supply themselves with pro- 
visions, having only four articles to sell— flour, butter, sugar and oatmeal. 
They limited interest on shares to five per cent., and divided profits among 
members in proportion to their purchases, a system which proved highly 



5 6 2 E VOL UTION IN IND USTR Y 

advantageous. From the first this organization was successful, and by 
1 85 7 it had 1,850 members, a capital of ,£15,000, and annual sales of ,£80,000. 
Since then its growth has continued rapid, and it is now in a high state of 
prosperity. 

There were co-operative societies in Great Britain long before the date 
of this, and many have been started since, nearly all of them being in the 
form of co-operative stores, of which the Army and Navy Stores are among 
the most flourishing. There are now in that country probably over 1,500 
of these associations, with a million of members, a capital of more than 
,£10,000,000, and profits of over ,£3,000,000 annually. In 1864 there was 
founded at Manchester a Wholesale Society to supply goods to these stores, 
and a second at Glasgow in 1869 — the two being now practically one institu- 
tion. This society purchases and forwards goods, and owns a number of 
steamships of its own, which traffic with cities on the continent. Its manu- 
facturing industries are also large, including boot and shoe factories at 
Leicester, soap works at Durham, woolen-cloth mills at Batley, and other 
factories elsewhere. There are in addition mills and factories carried on 
by retail societies, the annual production by these associations being 
probably considerably over £5,000,000. It will be perceived from the 
above statement that the workmen's co-operative enterprises in Great 
Britain comprise one of the important institutions of the country, one that 
has become firmly established during the latter half of the nineteenth 
century, and may grow enormously in importance during the twentieth. It 
is likely to play a prominent part in the solution of the labor question. 

In no other country has this form of association flourished. In France 

profit-sharing has made a much greater progress, and ordinary co-operation 

has met with slight success. In Germany and Austria co-operation has 

taken the form of people's banks. These originated in 184Q 
Co-operation in r r . ° _ J 

Europe and at the little town of Delitzsch, in Saxony, and have flourished 

the United greatly, there being several thousand societies in the German 
States . 

states, with probably two million members and a very large 

business. There are also in Germany a considerable number of productive 
associations and co-operative dairies, while the latter have greatly flourished 
in Denmark. In Italy the people's banks have made marked progress, and 
there are several hundred co-operative dairies, bakeries and other en- 
terprises. 

Co-operation has made no decided progress in the United States, it 
being most developed in New England, where it takes the form of associa- 
tions of fishermen, of creameries and banks. In Philadelphia co-operative 
building societies have provided workmen with more than 100,000 homes. 



E VOL UTION IN IND USTR Y 563 

The co-operative store has not flourished, and associated manufacture has 
made little progress, though profit-sharing has been introduced into ni. 
large stores and factories. 

Such is the status of the experimental development in associated 
manufacturing and distributive enterprise. The theoretical phase of this 
question has gone much further, and has given rise to an extensive popular 
movement whose final outcome it is not easy to predict. This is really, in 
its way, an extension of the co-operative idea, being an attempt to make 
co-operation national, the entire nation becoming one great co-operative 
association, and the functions of government being extended to cover 
production and distribution of the necessaries of life, in addition to its 
present duties. This theory is most commonly known as The Theories of 

Socialism, though also entitled Nationalism and Collect- Socialism and 

. ■ T • • ■ 1 .. • 1 r 1 1 .. Anarchism 

ivism. Its main purpose is industrial reform, but it seeks to 

produce by political means what the trade union has attempted to do by 

non-political agitation. An opposite doctrine, which has man)- adherents, is 

known as Anarchism, whose platform contemplates the overthrow of existing 

institutions and the rebuilding of society from its elements upon the basis of 

local grouping. This doctrine has attracted to itself much of the ignorant 

and violent element of the European populations, and has been seriously 

discredited by the outrages committed by its members. Prominent examples 

of these were the massacre of the police in Chicago, already mentioned, the 

excesses of the Commune in Paris, and the acts of violence ot the Russian 

Nihilists. The theory itself is philosophical, even if impracticable, and has 

been advocated by a number of able men who cannot be charged with its 

excesses. 

Returning to the doctrines of Socialism, it may be said that it was 
preceded by the conception of Communism, or equal distribution of the 
proceeds of labor among the members of a community. This has long 
since passed from the stage of belief to that of experiment, 
many Communistic societies having been founded in both societies 
ancient and modern times. The Essenes, prominent in Pales- 
tine in the time of Christ, were one of the ancient examples. In modern 
times the United States has been a favorite field for the founding of Com- 
munistic societies, probably from the reason that they were less likely to 
come into conflict with existing institutions than in Europe. 

The best known of those societies of a religious character comprise the 
Dunkers, founded at Ephrata, Pennsylvania, in 1 7 1 3 ; the Harmony Society, 
established in 1824, and still in existence at Economy, near Pittsburg ; the 
Separatist Community, established at /oar, Ohio, in 1817; the Shakers, 



564 E VOL UTION IN IND USTR Y 

first organized at Watervliet, N. Y., in 1774 ; and the Perfectionists, founded 
by John H. Noyes, at Putney, Vermont, in 1837. Several others, less well 
known, might be named, but it must be said that the persistence of several 
of these organizations has been mainly due to the religious enthusiasm of 
their members, and is in no sense a proof of the economic correctness of their 
principle. Many of them require celibacy of their members, while the Per- 
fectionist Society practiced free love until broken up by the strong disap- 
proval of the community. 

In addition to these religious experiments in Communism, a number 
of secular communistic societies have been founded in this country. Promi- 
nent among these was that established by Robert Owen, in 1824, at New 
Secular Com- Harmony, Indiana. Every effort was made to promote the 
munistic success of this enterprise, and ten other communities on the 

Experiments same principle were organized elsewhere, but they all failed 
in a few years, and the Owenite movement came to an end in this country 
by 1832. 

A second example was the celebrated Brook Farm enterprise, first sug- 
gested by Dr. Channing, and founded at West Roxbury, Mass., in 1841. 
It included the most remarkable group of men and women ever embraced 
in such an undertaking, among its members being Emerson, Hawthorne, 
Dana, Ripley, Alcott, and other well known literary men. Its business man- 
agement was anything but practical, and it came to an end in 1847. The 
form of community suggested by Fourier, the French theorist, was abun- 
dantly tried in the United States, where thirty-three communities or 
"phalanxes" were founded in the years 1842-53. They had all failed 
by 1855. 

The result of these efforts to establish societies where everything shall 
be in common between the members, of which hundreds have been founded 
and none persisted for more than a few years, except where sustained by 
religious fanaticism, does not speak well for the practical nature of com- 
munism. The mass of the people have always kept away from it, and its 
abrogation of the principle of personal reward for personal effort seems 
likely to prevent its ever becoming successful. 

Socialism was originally similar to Communism, but as now under- 
stood and advocated differs essentially from it, since the principle of 
equal division of property or products is no longer maintained. 

Development of Nationalism, or the ownership of all productive property and 
Socialism r l . . , 

all manufactures and their products by the nation, with the 

complete distribution of profits among the people, on the basis of the value 

to the community of the labor or service of each person, is the existing 



E I '( )L in ION IN INDUSTRY 565 

form of Socialism. Originated and developed within the nineteenth 
tury, it has now become one of the prominent social and political move, 
ments of the age, and some brief description of it is here in order. 

h ranee is the birth place of Socialism in its primary form. Two writers, 
Mably and Morelly, advanced a scheme for a communistic reorganization of 
society about the middle of the eighteenth century, and in 1796 a commun- 
istic conspirary to revolutionize the government, organized by a man named 
Babeuf, at the head of a society called the Equals, was discovered and sup- 
pressed. Later arose Robert Owen in England, with his communistic 
scheme, and St. Simon and Fourier in France, whose plans were onlv in 
part communistic. A more properly Socialistic movement was attempted 
by Louis Blanc in Paris during the revolution of 1848, when national work- 
shops for the industrial classes of France were established. In Paris 150,- 
OOO workmen were employed in these shops, but they were closed after a 
brief trial. Their failure, it is claimed, was largely the result of bad man- 
agement. Of recent English Socialistic movements may be named that of 
Maurice and Kingsley, the originators of Christian Socialism, which con- 
tinues to exercise an important influence. 

After 1850 the socialistic movement temporarily declined in France 
and Great Britain, but it gained a great impetus in Germany, under the 
teachings of certain able and skillful advocates. German Socialism first 
became active in 1S63, through the efforts of Ferdinand Lasalle, though it 
had earlier supporters. He proposed to establish a German 
workman's republic, with himself as president; but ended his " s a ean 
career in the following year, being killed in a duel. After 
his death his system of "social democracy" fell under the control of the 
notable Karl Marx, a writer of original genius, to whom Socialism as it 
exists to-day is largely due. The International Association of Workingmen, 
as reorganized by him in 1864, changed its purpose from an industrial to a 
political Diie, and soon became a threatening compound of dangerous 
elements. It was socialistic in aim. having, below its declared purpose of 
the protection and emancipation of the working classes, schemes for the 
abolition of the wages system, the state: control of all property, and the 
grading of compensation for labor on the basis of time: occupied, instead of 
on the more logical basis of ability and industry shown and value of 
product. 

Karl Marx's famous work "Capital," is the ablest and most logical 
exposition of the socialistic theor) yet produced, and has exerted a power- 
ful influence on recent thought. It set in motion a great political and 
social movement which has grown with extraordinary rapidity, in spite of 



566 E I 'OL UTION IN IND USTR Y 

repressive laws against it, and has given rise to a large number of volumes 
dealing with the subject, some of which have had a phenom- 

The Literature ena j sa j e j^ e popular little volume entitled " Merrie Eng- 
of Socialism A 1 5> 

land " is said to have sold to the number of considerably 

more than a million copies, while Bellamy's " Looking Backward," which 
advocates a communistic organization of society, has had a sale of several 
hundred thousands. 

In recent years Socialism has spread upward from the working classes 
and gained many advocates among the leaders of thought. It has had a con- 
siderable development in all western Europe, and particularly in Germany, in 
which country the Socialists form a powerful political party, which as early 
as 1887 polled eleven per cent, of the total vote, and gained a considerable 
membership in the Reichstag. By 1890 its vote had so largely increased 
that liberalism obtained a majority in the Reichstag. At the end of the 

^. * ^, century the Social Democrat party had =;6 members in the 
Growth of the J . 

Socialist Reichstag as contrasted with 54 members of the German 

Party m Conservatives. The remainder of the 396 members were 

divided among a number of parties, the Clericals or Centre 
being the strongest, with 104 members. As will be seen from these figures, 
Socialism has made a remarkable advance in that country, having within 
less than forty years become a power in Parliament. The time may come 
in the near future when it will be the controlling party in legislature and 



government. 



In the United States Socialism has grown with less rapidity, yet within 
recent years it has sprung into political importance in the rapid growth of 
the Populist party, organized in 1S92. This new organization gained five 
senators and eleven representatives in Congress in the year of its 
origin. In 1896, while its success was no greater, it had the striking effect 
of gaining the adhesion of the Democratic party, not only to the Free Silver 
plank in its platform, but to some of its more socialistic features. There are 
The Populist probably very many citizens of this country of strongly social- 
Party in the istic views who are opposed to the radical measures advocated 
by the Populists, and the real strength of Socialism in the 
United States may be much greater than is commonly supposed. It is shown 
in other directions than that of party affiliation, and at the end of the 
century was particularly indicated in the movement for the municipal 
ownership of street railways, gas works, and other forms of what are known 
as public utilities. This movement has gone farther in Europe than in this 
country, several nations owning their railway and telegraph plants, while 
municipal control of street railways and other public utilities is becoming 



E VOL UTION IN IND USTR Y 567 

general. In short, it would be difficult to point to a popular movement in 
the history of the world that has made a more rapid and substantial advance 
than has Socialism within the past forty years. 

As the nineteenth century approached its end a new element in the 
economic situation, which had been displaying itself in some measure for a 
considerable number of years, suddenly assumed a striking prominence in 
the United Stales, and remarkably transformed the industrial situation. 
This was the element of the combination of distributive ami The Develop- 
manufacturing enterprises, shown at first in the growth oi ment of the 
the department stores and the pooling of manufacture 
interests, and later in the formation of trusts and monopolies, powerful 
corporations of industrial interests, which assumed gigantic proportions in 
1898 and tlie succeeding years. 

Several of these great organizations, absorbing- all the factories or 
plants of the special trades concerned into single vast corporations, have 
been in existence for years. Most prominent of these are the Sugar Trust 
and the Standard Oil Company, which have eliminated the element of com- 
petition from those industries and accumulated their profits in the hands oi 
a few great capitalists. 

The complete control of important productive interests gained by these 
groups of capitalists has instigated those: connected with other lines of pro- 
duction to similar methods, and the formation of trusts has gone on at an 
accelerating ratio, until all the great and many ol the minor industries of 
the country have formed trust organizations, while a large number of estab- 
lishments have been closed, and thousands of workmen and other employees 
dismissed. 

The result of all this has been to p a state ol affairs in which 

competition, so long considered the life ol trade, is practically elimin; 
from many branches of industry, while the opportunities for 

.,.,,' , • , , , , Probable Effect 

individual enterprise, which have been active tor so many cen- f Trusts 
turies, have in great part vanished. Uneconomic situation 

ns at hand in which the mass of the community will b ed to assume 

the position of employees, the class of employers being reduced to a few 
very rich men, absorbing the profits of industry and holding the remainder 
of the community in a condition ing servitude. 

Such an undesirable co industrial affairs as is here threatened 

has naturally aroused a stn ling of opposition, and the forces of the 

community are being marshalled to prevent such a radical revolution in 
industry. Just how the brake is to be applied is not clear. It is not easy 
to prevent capital from pooling its forces, and legislation may fail to find a 



56S EVOLUTION IN INDUSTRY 

remedy which will reach the root of the disease. Yet a cure must come, in 
one way or the other — the trust movement being either reversed or carried 
forward to its logical conclusion. It is being widely recognized and acknow- 
ledged, even by some of the trust potentates themselves, that the movement 
thus inaugurated is likely to hasten the advent of socialistic institutions. 
To What the The abolition of individual enterprise under the trust must 
Trust Must eventually become almost as extreme as it would be in a 
Lead socialistic community, and if the trust movement continues the 

principal objection to socialism will be removed. It must be evident to all 
that the tyranny of a group of irresponsible and grasping capitalists, ambi- 
tious to obtain enormous wealth, will be much greater than that of officials 
chosen as the servants of the people, and subject to removal at their will, 
can ever become. 

The Roman despot wished that all the Roman people had but one 
neck, that he might cut it off with a single blow. Capital is in a measure 
reducing itself to this condition, and the people may in time cut off 
its head in a similar manner. It is easier to deal with the few than with 
the many, and the relation into which capital and labor has now come 
can have, sooner or later, only one or the other of two endings. As 
above said, the evolution now in operation must go forward or go back- 
ward ; gfo backward until the former state of affairs is regained, or gfo 
forward until industrial slavery grows complete, in which case the people 
will, in the end, inevitably rebel. It is impossible for such a movement to 
stop half way, one result or the other must inevitably come, either a return to 
individualism or a progress to collectivism. Which it shall be depends upon 
the people themselves. The power is in their hands the moment they elect 

to cast aside their differences and act in concert, and the pres- 
An Industrial , . ........ , . 

Revolution ence oi a great danger or an intolerable situation is the one thing 

to bring them to this common action. In such a case it will 

rest with themselves which status of industry they prefer, the old state of 

individualism and competition or a new state of collectivism and industrial 

alliance. Though it is but dimly recognized, the world of industry is in the 

throes of a revolution, the final result of nineteenth century development, 

and it must be left for the twentieth century to decide what the outcome of 

this revolution is to be. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Charles Darwin and the Development of Science 

SCIENCE by no means belongs to the nineteenth century. It has been 
extant upon the earth ever since man began to observe and consider 
the marvels of the universe. We can trace it back to an age possibly 
ten thousand years remote, when men began to watch and record the move- 
ments of the stars in the heavens above the broad Babylonian plain. It 
grew active among the Greeks of Alexandria in that too brief „ 

& . ° _ Progress of 

period before the hand of war checked for centuries the pro- Scientific Dis- 

gress of mankind. It rose again in Europe during the medi- covery m the 
seval period, and became active during the later centuries of 
this period. In the centuries immediately preceding the nineteenth num- 
bers of great scientists arose, and many highly important discoveries were 
made, while theoretical science achieved a remarkable progress, its ranks 
being adorned by such names as those of Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, New- 
ton, and various others of world-wide fame that might be given. Thus at 
the dawn of the nineteenth century there existed a great groundwork of 
scientilic facts and theories upon which to build the massive future edifice. 

This building has been going on with extraordinary rapidity during the 
present century, and to-day our knowledge of the facts of science is im- 
mensely greater than that of our predecessors of a century ago ; while of the 

views entertained and theories promulgated previous to 1800, _ . .... . t . 

r & r Scientific Acti- 

the great sum have been thrown overboard and replaced by vityofthe 

others founded upon a much wider and deeper knowledge of Nineteenth 
- r r & Century 

facts. 

New and important theoretical views of science have been reached in 
all departments. Recent chemistry, for instance, is a very different thing 
from the chemistry of a century ago. Geology has been largely trans- 
formed within the century. Heat, once supposed to be a substance, is now 
known to be a motion ; light, formerly thought to be a direct motion of 
particles, is now believed to be a wave motion; new and important concep- 
tions have been reached concerning electricity and magnetism ; and our 
knowledge of the various sciences that have to do with the world of life is 
extraordinarily advanced. As for the practical applications of science, it 

569 



57° CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 

may suffice to present the startling fact that the substance of the atmos- 
phere, scarcely known a century ago, can now be reduced to a liquid and 
carried about like water in a bucket. 

In view of the facts here briefly stated it might almost be said that 
science, as it exists to-day, is a result of nineteenth century thought and 
observation ; since that of the past was largely theoretical and the bulk of 
its theories have been set aside, while the scientific observations of former 
times were but a drop in the bucket as compared with the vast multitude 
of those of the past hundred years. As regards the utilization of scientific 
facts, their application to the benefit of mankind, this is almost solely the 
work of the century under review, and in no direction has invention pro- 
duced more wonderful and useful results. 

Alfred Russell Wallace, one of the most distinguished scientists of 
recent times, in his work entitled " The Wonderful Century," has made a 
Wallace's careful inventory of the discoveries and inventions to which 

"Wonderful the progress of mankind is mainly due, and he divides them 
into two groups, the first embracing all the epoch-making 
discoveries achieved by men previous to the present century, and the second 
taking in the steps of progress of equal importance which have been made 
in the nineteenth century. In the first list he finds only fifteen items of 
the highest rank, and the claims of some even of these to a separate place 
are not beyond question, since they may not really be of epoch-making char- 
acter. He puts first in the list the following, viz. : Alphabetic writing and 
the Arabic notation, which have always been powerful engines of knowledge 
and discovery. Their inventors are unknown, lost in the dim twilight of 
prehistoric times. As the third great discovery of ancient times he names 
the development of geometry. Coming after a vast interval to the four- 
teenth century A. D., we find the mariner's compass, and in the fifteenth 
the printing press, both of which beyond question are of the same character 
and rank as alphabetic writing. From the sixteenth century we get no 
physical invention or discovery of leading importance, but it witnessed an 
amazing' movement of the human mind, which in eood time gave rise to the 
Epoch-Making great catalogue of advances of the seventeenth century. To 

Discoveries of this he credits the invention of the telescope, and, though not 
of equal rank, the barometer and thermometer (which he 
classes as one discovery), and in other fields the discovery of the differential 
calculus, of gravitation, of the laws of planetary motion, of the circulation 
of the blood, and the measurement of the velocity of light. To the eight- 
eenth century he refers the more important of the earlier steps in the evolu- 
tion of the steam engine and the foundation of both modern chemistry 



CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 571 

and electrical science. This completes the list. To the above many w 
add Jenner's discovery of vaccination and probably several others. Each 
writer, in making up such a list, would be governed in a measure by his 
personal range of studies, but no one would be likely to deviate widely from 
the above list. 

Now what has been the record since 1 800 ? How does the nineteenth 
cetury compare with its predecessors? In Wallace's view it 

, , .... ... (ireat Dis= 

is not to be compared, as regards scientific progress and dis- coveriesof 
covery, with any single century, but with all past time. In the Nine- 
fact, it far outstrips the entire progress oi mankind in the ages 
preceding 1800. 

Estimating on the same basis as that which he previously adopted, 
Wallace finds twenty-four discoveries and inventions of the first class that 
have had their origin in the nineteenth century, against the fifteen enumer- 
ated from all previous time. 

Of the same rank with Newton's theory of gravitation, which comes 
from the seventeenth century, stands out the doctrine of the correlation and 
conservation of forces, one oi the widest and most far reaching general- 
izations that the mind ol man has yet reached. Against Kepler's laws of 
planetary motions from the seventeenth century we can set the nebular 
theory of the nineteenth. The telescope of the seventeenth is matched by 
the spectroscope of the nineteenth. If the first reveals to us myriads of 
suns, otherwise unseen, scattered through the illimitable fields of space, the 
second tells us what substances compose these suns and maintain their 
distant fires, and, most wonderful of all, the direction and the rate in which 
each is moving. Harvey's immortal discovery of the seventeenth century 
finds a full equivalent in the germ theory of disease of the nineteenth. 
The mariner's compass of the fourteenth century easily yields first 
place to the electric telegraph of the nineteenth, while the barometer and 
thermometer of the seventeenth century are certainly less wonderful, 
though perhaps not less serviceable, than the telephone and phonograph 
and the Rontgen rays of our own day. 

We may more briefly enumerate the remaining discoveries cited by 

Wallace, partly, as will be perceived, mechanical, but mainly results of 

scientific research. Early in the century came the inestima- Usefuland 

ble inventions of the railway engine and the steamboat, and Scientific 

somewhat later the minor but highly useful discoveries of the steps of 

Progress 

lucifer match and of gas illumination. These were quickly 

followed by the wonderful discovery of photography, than which few things 

have added more to the enjoyment of man. Equally important in relation 



572 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 

to his relief from suffering are the remarkable discoveries of anaesthetics 
and the antiseptic method in surgery. Another of the great discoveries 
of the age is that of the electric light, with its remarkably rapid develop- 
ment and utilization. 

More purely scientific In character are Mendeljeff's discovery of the 
periodic law in chemistry, the molecular theory of matter, the direct 
measurement of the velocity of light, and the remarkable utility of floating 
dust in meteorology. The list concludes with the geological theory of the 
glacial age, the discovery of the great antiquity of man, the cell theory and 
the doctrine of embryological development, and last, but, in pure science, 
perhaps the greatest, Darwin's famous theory of organic evolution — devel- 
oped by Spencer into universal evolution. 

It is quite possible that other nineteenth century scientists would be 
tempted to expand this list, and perhaps add considerably to Wallace's 
twenty-four epoch-making discoveries. Indeed, since his book was written, 
a twenty-fifth has arisen, in the discovery of wireless telegraphy, the 
scientific marvel of the end of the century, too young as yet for its vast 
possibilities to be perceived. We might also mention the electric motor 
and liquid air as of equal importance with some of those enumerated. 

An interestingf review of the advances made in science during the 
nineteenth century was offered by Sir Michael Foster, President of the 
British Association in its 1S99 meeting, from which we may quote. He 
first touched upon chemistry. The ancients, he said, thought that but four 
Foster's Views elements existed — fire, air, earth, and water. Anything like a 
on Recent correct notion of the composition of matter dates from the 
latter part of the eighteenth century, when Priestley and 
Lavoisier revealed to the world the nature of oxygen, and thus led to a 
long series of fruitful discoveries. 

The whole history of electricity as a servant of man is confined to the 
last sixty or seventy years, and really springs from Volta's invention of the 
galvanic battery. Frictional electricity had long been known, but nothing 
beyond curious laboratory experiments were conducted with it. The investi- 
gations and discoveries of Oersted and Faradav, which made possible the 
telegraph, dynamo, trolley car and telephone, followed Volta's discovery of 
the means of producing a steady current of electricity — first announced 
in 1799. 

Geology, too, he states to be a new born science. Although numerous 
ingenious theories were entertained in regard to the origin and significance 
of the rock strata, it was only at the close of the eighteenth century that men 
began to recognize that the earth's crust, with its various layers of rock, was 



CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OE SCIENCE 573 

avast book of history, each leaf of which told of periods of thousands oi 
millions of years. The slow processes of formation, ami the embedding of 
the remains of the animal and vegetable life of those ancient times, were 
only interpreted aright after Hutton, Playfair and Cuvier had wrestled with 
the problem. 

With these interesting views of prominent scientists, we mayprocei 
a more detailed consideration of the scientific triumphs of the century. To 
present anything other than the headlights of its progress, in the space at 
our command, would be impossible, in view of the extraordinary accumula- 
tion of facts made by its many thousands of observers, and the multitude of 
generalizations, of the most varied character, offered by the 

thinkers in the domain of science;. These generalizations Headlights o 
• • 1 1 i-i m r Progress 

vary m importance as much as they do in character. Many 01 
them are evidently temporary only, and must fall before the future progress 
of discovery; others are founded upon such a multitude of significant facts, 
and are of such inherent probability, that they seem likely to be as permanent 
as the theories of Galileo, Kepler, Newton, and others ol the older worthies. 
Beginning with astronomy, the oldest and noblesl of I 5, we 

could record a vast number of minor discover, shall confine ourselves 

to the major ones. Progress in astronomy has kept in close pace with 
development in instruments. The tel of the end of the century, for 

i tnce, has enormously greater s rietrating and star-defining powers 

than that used at the beginning, and has added extraordinarily to our 
knowledge of the number of stars, the character of their groupings, and 
the constitution of solar orbs and nebulae. These results have been greatly 
addded to by the use of the camera in astronomy, the photo- 
graph revealing stellar secrets which could never have been D 'scovenes in 

1 & Astronomy 

Jearned by the aid of the telescope alone. This has also the 
great advantage of placing on record the positions of the stars at any fixed 
moment, and thus rendering comparatively easy the detection of motions 
among them. 

But it is to a new instrument of research, the spectroscope, that we 
owe our most interesting knowledge of the stars. This wonderful instru- 
ment enables us to analyze the ray of light itself, to study the many lines by 
which the vari-colored spectrum is crossed and discover to what substances 
certain groups of lines are due. From studying with this instru- Reve | ations ot 
ment the substances which compose the earth, science has taken the Spectro- 
to studying the stars, and has found that not only our sun, ,cope 
but suns whose distance is almost beyond the grasp of thought, are made 
up largely of chemical substances similar to those that exist in the earth. 



574 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 

A second result of the use of this instrument has been to prove that there 
are true nebulae in the heavens, masses of star dust or vapor not 
yet gathered into orbs, and that there are dark suns, great invisible orbs, 
which have cooled until they have ceased to give off light. A third result 
is the power of tracing the motions of stars which are passing in a 
direct line to or from the earth. By this means it has been found that 
many of the double or multiple stars are revolving around each other. A 
late discovery in this direction, made in 1899, ' s tnat tne Polar star, which 
appears single in the most powerful telescope, is really made up of three 
stars, two of which revolve round each other every four hours, while the two 
circle round a more distant companion. 

Late astronomy has revealed to us many marvels of the solar system. 
Before the nineteenth century it was not known that any planetary bodies 
existed between Mars and Jupiter. On the first day of the century — January 
I, 1 801 — Ceres, the first of the asteroids or planetoids, was discovered. 
New Facts in Three others were soon discovered, and later on smaller ones 
the Solar began to be found in multitudes, so that by the end of the 

System century not less than four hundred and fifty of these small 

planetary bodies were known. Of other discoveries we may briefly refer to 
the new facts discovered concerning comets and meteors, planets and satellites, 
the condition of the sun's surface, the detailed knowledge of the surface 
conditions of Mars and the Moon, the character of Saturn's rings, the dis- 
covery of the planet Neptune, etc., all clue to nineteenth century research. 

In the group of sciences known under the general title of Physics 
—chemistry, light, heat, electricity, and magnetism — the progress has been 
equally decided and many of the discoveries of almost startling signifiance, 
Chemistry, as it exists to-day, is almost wholly a child of the century. 
Many chemical substances were known in the past, but their number sinks 
into insignificance as compared with those of late discovery. Of chemical 
conceptions of earlier date, Dalton's theory of atoms is the only one of 
importance that still exists. The view long maintained — until 

The Advance of j t j n t | le n ; neteent h century, in fact — that organic and 
Chemistry . J & 

inorganic chemistry are separated from each other by a wide 

gap, is no longer held. Hundreds of organic substances, some of them of 
great complexity, have been made in the chemist's laboratory, and can now 
be classed as properly with inorganic as with organic substances. The gap 
has been closed, and there is now but one chemistry. Only the most intri- 
cate chemical compounds still lie beyond the chemist's grasp, and the isola- 
tion of these may be at any time overthrown. Organic chemistry has 
become simply the chemistry of carbon-compounds. 




BARON F. H. ALEXAND1 K von HUMBOLDT. 



I i 1 1 I- \GA 




CHARLES DARWIN. 

ILLUSTRIOUS MEN O F SCI ENC E. 19TH CENTURY 



THOMAS H. HUXLEY 




PASTEUR IN HIS LABORATORY 

The discovery of the mission of the exceedingly minute organisms known as bacteria in producing disease ranks 

among the greatest and most beneficient of our age. By it the art of the physician was first 

raised to the rank of a science. The honor of this discovery belongs to 

Louis Pasteur, the eminent French chemist and biologist. 



CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVEL0PMEN7 OF SCIENCE 577 

One chemical theory of recent date, the vortex atom theory of Lord 
Kelvin, has quickly met its fate, being abandoned by its author him- 
he study of it has been rich in results. It is now widely held thai 
iniverse is made up of two great basic elements, ether and matter, 01 
>erhaps o\w only, since it seems highly probable that the atom of matter is 
l minute, self coherent mass of ether. It is further held as doubtful that 
Ltoms ever exist alone, they being combined by their attractions into small 
>odies known as molecules, which are in incessant motion, and to whose 
ictivity the physical force of the universe is largely due. 

One of the most important chemical discoveries of the century was that 
>f the "periodic law" of the chemical elements, advanced by the Russian 
dentist Mendeljeff, under which the weights of the atoms of the elements 
vere for the first time placed in harmony with each other, and a fixed 
Himerical relation shown to exist between them. We may conclude this 
>rief glance at the science by mention of the very high temperature which 
he electric furnace has now placed at the command of chemists, and the 
:qually great refrigeration now attainable, by which the air itself can easily 
ie liquified ami even frozen into a solid ma 

Light, naturally one of the earliest of the phenomena of nature to 

.ttract the attention of man, was little understood until after the advent 

if the nineteenth century. It was of old supposed to lie a 

, , • 1 • 1 11 ■ Light and Its 

uostance 01 so rapid motion as to be practically instantaneous phenomena 

n its movement through space. Even Newton looked upon 
t as a substance given olf by shining bodies, and it remained for Youn^ 
he beeinning of the nineteenth century, to prove that light is not a sub- 
tance but a motion, a series of rapid waves or undulations in a substance 
ixtending throughout space, and known as the lumeniferous ether. The 
dea that light is instantaneous in its motion also vanished when Roemer 
iiscovered, by observing the- eclipses of Jupiter's moons, that it takes about 
:ight minute, for the ray of light to travel from the sun to the earth. 
\. cannon ball moving at the rate of 1,700 feet per second would take 
ibout nine years to make the same journey, the wave of light traveling at 
he extraordinary speed of over 186,000 miles in a second. Yet immensely 
apid as is this rate of movement, we do not need to go to the sun and 
danets to measure the speed of light, but can now do so, by the use of 
lelicaie instruments, on a few miles of the earth's surface. This is on of 
he great discoveries enumerated by Wallace. 

The discoveries in relation to the constitution and characteristics of 
tght made during the century have been so numerous that we must con 
)urselves to those of major importance. Much might be said about the 
32 



5 7 8 CHA RLES BAR I VI N AND BE VEL ( )PMENT OF SCIENCE 

phenomena of polarization, refraction, diffraction, photography, and the de- 
velopment of the power of lenses, to which the great advance in telescopic 
and microscopic observation is due. Among these steps of progress perhaps 
the most interesting is the development of instantaneous photo- 
eries in Optics g ra phy> a striking result of which is the power, by aid of pho- 
tographs taken in rapid succession, of portraying objects in 
motion — living pictures, as they are called — an exhibit now so common and 
so marvelous. But among all the advances in the science of optics the most 
important are spectrum analysis and the Rontgen ray. The remarkable 
discoveries made in astronomy by the former of these have been already 
stated. The Rontgen ray, which has the power of rendering ordinarily 
opaque substances transparent, has become of extraordinary value in surgery, 
as showing the exact location of foreign substances within the body, the 
position and character of bone fractures, etc. 

Heat, once looked upon as a substance, and known by the now obsolete 
name of Caloric, has been demonstrated to be, like light, a motion, the 
incessant leaping about of the molecules of matter, this motion being readily 
transferable from one substance to another, and forming- the "Teat substra- 
turn of power in the universe. This theory, first promulgated by Count 
Rumford, an American by birth, was fully worked out by others, and put in 
popular form by Professor Tyndall, an English scientist, in his 
of notion "Heat Considered as a Mode of Motion," published in 1862. 

Radiant heat is identical with light, being a vibration of the 
ether. Tt may be further said in relation to heat phenonema that remark- 
able power in producing very high and extremely low temperatures is nx)w 
possessed. By the former the most refractory substances may be vaporized. 
By the latter the most volatile gases may be liquified and even frozen. 
The point of absolute zero, that in which all heat motion would disappear, 
is estimated to be at the temperature of 274 degrees 6 minutes centigrade 
below the freezing point of water. A degree of cold within some forty de- 
grees of this has been reached in the liquefaction of hydrogen. In 1889 tne 
climax in this direction was reached in the reduction, by Professor Dewar, 
of the very volatile element hydrogen to the solid state. 

Electricity, formerly, like heat and light, looked upon as a substance, 

is now known to be a motion, being, in fact, identical in origin with light 

Conservation ar >d radiant heat. All these forces are considered to be 

and Corr-h- motions of the lumeniferous ether, their principal distinction 

tion of Forces u • • l ..i r t r •,_ • ». 

being in length of wave. In fact, it is easy to convert one 
of them into the other, and the great doctrine of the conservation and 
correlation of forces means simply that heat, light and electricity may be 



CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 579 

mutually transformed, and that no loss of motion or force takes plai e in 
these changes from one mode of motion to another. In the operation of 
the electric trolley car, to offer a familiar example, the heat power of coal is 
first transformed into engine motion, then into electricity, then again into 
light and heat within the car. then into mass motion in the motor, and 
finally passes away as electricity. No better example of the " correlation of 
forces" than this familiar instance could be adduced. 

As regards the nature of electricity, though innumerable observations 
have been made during the nineteenth century and a vast multitude of facts 
put upon record, we know little more than is above stated. But if we turn 
to the practical applications of electric power, it is to find these standing 
high among the great advances <>l the century. To it we owe the highly 
important discoveries of the telegraph and the telephone; the conversion 
of engine power into electricity by the dynamo and the use of 
this in moving cars, carriages and machinery; the storage pp lc f . lo " h ot 

... . . . . Electricity 

battery, with its similar applications ; the use of electricity in 

lighting: and heating:, the latter remarkably exemplified in the electric fur- 
nace, which yields the highest temperature known on the earth ; the weld- 
ing of metals by electricity ; the electrotype and electro-plating ; the con- 
version of water power into electric force and its transportation by wire for 
long distances; the therapeutic uses of the electric current, and other 
applications too numerous to mention. 

In regard to the magnet, the handmaid of electric power, we know 
little other than that the force displayed by it seems to be a result of some 
mode of rotation in the atoms or molecules of matter, since all the effects 
of magnetism can be produced by the rotary motion of the electric cur- 
rent in spirals of wire. From this it is thought that the mole- 

Th l> * 'I 

cular motion to which magnetism is due may be of an electric e " ncip ..'"" 

& - of magnetism 

character, though the permanence of the magnetic force 

renders this very doubtful. It seems most probable that magnetism is 
a result of some special condition of the ordinary, inherent motions of atoms 
—not their fluctuating heat activities, but those fixed motions upon which 
their organization and persistence depend. The readiness with which soft 
iron can be magnetized and demagnetized by the use of the electric current 
is of extraordinary value in the practical applications of electricity. To 
this fact we owe the dynamo and th ill their varied uses. 

With this passing glance at tint physical forces, we may proceed to the 
consideration of the great science of geology, which, as above stated by 
Foster, is a new-born science, almost wholly of nineteenth century develop- 
ment. Geology as it now exists may be said to date from 1790, when 



58o CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 

William Smith published his "Tabular View," in which he showed the proper 
succession of the rock strata and pointed out that each group of rocks is 
marked by fossils peculiar to itself. With his work began that great series 
of close observations which still continue, and which have laid the constitu- 
tion of the earth's crust open before us in many of its intimate details. 

Among the many geologists of the century Sir Charles Lyell stands 
prominent, his " Principles of Geology " (1830-33) forming an epoch in the 
advance of the science. Before his time the seeming breaks in the series of 
the rocks were looked upon as the results of mighty catastrophes, vast 
upheavals or depressions in the surface, which worked widespread destruc- 
tion among animals and plants, these cataclysms being followed by new 
creations in the world of life. Lyell contended that the forces 

rogfess in now a t work are of the same type as those which have been 

Geology J r 

always at work ; that catastrophes have always been local, as 

they are now local; that general forces have acted slowly, and that there has 

been no world-wide break, either in rock deposits or the progress of human 

being-s. 

His views gave rise to a conception of the unbroken continuity of 
organic life which was greatly strengthened by the publication of Charles 
Darwin's " Origin of Species," which went far to do away with the old belief 
that each new life-form has arisen through special creation, and to replace it by 
the theory now widely held that all new forms of life arise through hereditary 
descent, with variation, from older forms. In this conception we have the 
basis of the recent theory of evolution, so thoroughly worked out and 
widely extended since Darwin's time — a theory including the doctrine that 
man himself is a result of descent, and not of special creation. 

With geology is closely connected the Nebular Hypothesis of Kant 
and Laplace, of eighteenth century origin, to the effect that all the spheres 
of space originated in the condensation and rotation of immense volumes 
of nebulous vapor, similar to the nebulae now known to exist in the 
heavens, and that each planet began its existence as a great gaseous globe, 
its evolution being due to the gradual process of cooling and condensing, 
by which its surface, and perhaps its whole mass, were in time converted 
The Nebular ' nto s °lid matter. This interesting doctrine of world evolu- 
and Meteoric tion does not remain unquestioned. A new hypothesis was 
advanced by Professor Lockyer in the final decade of the 
nineteenth century, to the effect that spheral evolution is not due to the 
condensation of o-aseous nebula;, but of vast aoweeations of those meteoric 
stones with which space seems filled, and which are drawn together by their 
mutual attractions, become intensely heated through their collisions, and are 



CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVEL0PMEN7 OF SCIENCE 581 

converted into liquids ami through the heat th Ived. It is pos- 

sible that the visible nebula-, like the comets, are great volumes of such 
meteors. This is the meteoric theory referred to in Wallace's category 
of great discoveries. It is still, however, far from being established. 

Meteorology, the study of the atmosphere and its phenomena, is 
another science to which much attention was given during the century under 
review. A vast number of facts have been learned concerning the atmos- 
phere, its alternations of heat and cold, of calm and storm, 

of pressure, of diminution of density and loss of heat in eScenceo 
. . . . . . Meteorology 

ascending, and of its fluctuations in humidity, with the varia- 
tions of sunshine and cloud, fog, rain, snow, hail, lightning and other 
manifestations. 

The study of the winds has been a prominent feature in the progress 
of this science, and our knowledge of the causes and character of storms 
has been greatly developed. The theory that storms are Awe to great rotary 
movements in the atmosphere, immense cyclonic whirls, frequently followed 
by reverse, or anti-cyclonic, movements, has gone far to clear up the 
mystery of the winds, while the destructive tornado, the terrific local whirl 
in the winds, has been closely studied, though not yet fully understood. 
These close observations oi atmospheric changes have given rise to the 
Weather Bureau, by which the kind of weather to be looked for is pre- 
dicted for the United States. Similar observations and predictions have 
been widely extended among civilized nations. This is a practical applica- 
tion in meteorology which has been of immense advantage, particularly 
in the field of navigation. 

Of the sciences with which the nineteentn century has had much to '1", 
those relating to organic life, classed under the general title of biology, 
stand prominent, which includes botany and zoology. Sub- progress in the 
siduary to these are the sciences of anatomy, physiology, em- Biological 
bryology, psychology, anthropology, and several others of 
minor importance. We have, here laid out before us a very large subject, 
which has made remarkable progress during the past hundred years, much 
too great to handle except in brief general terms. 

In botany and zoology alike, the development of the cell theory is one of 
the most conspicuous advances of the century. It has been shown clearly 
that all plants and animals are made up of minute cells, semi-fluid in consis- 
tency, and principally made up oi a highly org, mi/ mical compound 
known as protoplasm, which Huxley has denominated the "physical basis ol 
life." These cells are the laboratories of the system. Motions and chan 
take place within them. They increase in size and divide in a peculiar 



5S2 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 

manner, thus growing in number. Many of them have self-motion like that 
of the low forms known as amoebae. Various chemical substances are elab- 
orated in them, such as the osseous structure of animals, the wood-fibre of 
plants, and others which are given off into the sap or the blood. In short, 
they are the foundation stones of life, and the physical operations of the 
highest beings are made up of the combined and harmonized activities of 
these myriads of minute cells. 

It would be impossible, unless we should devote a volume to the sub- 
ject, to do justice to the progress of botany and zoology in the nineteenth 
century. This progress consists largely in observation and description of 
a vast multitude of varied forms, with the consequent study of their 
Classification of affinities, and their classification into family groups, ranging 
Plants and • from species and varieties to orders and classes, or from minor 
and local to major and general groups. Both plants and 
animals have been divided up into a number of great orders, ranging in 
the former instance from the microscopic bacteria to the great and highly 
organized exogens, and in the latter from the minute unicellular forms to 
the mammalia. We have here, aside from the cell-theory, and the great 
progress in classification, nothing of epoch-making significance to offer, 
and are obliged to dismiss these subjects with this brief retrospect. 

There are, however, two fields in which an important accumulation of 

facts in reference to organic life has been made, those of embryology and 

palaeontology. The study of the organic cell by the microscope is one of 

the basic facts of embryology, since living operations take place within this 

cell. The network of minute fibres, of which it is largely made up, is seen 

to gather into two star-shaped forms with a connecting spindle 
Division of the r .-. , ,. . . , , . . . . . , ,, , . 

Ce) l ot fibres, the division ot which in the centre is followed by the 

division of the cell into two. This is the primary fact in repro- 
duction, new cells being thus born. In higher production two cells, arising 
from opposite sexes, combine, and their growth and division give rise to the 
organs and tissues of a new living being. It is the development of these 
organs and tissues that constitutes the science of embryology. 

The observation, under the microscope, of the stages of this develop- 
ment, has been of the highest value in the study of animal origin, and has 
aided greatly in the classification of animals. Many old ideas died out 
when it was clearly shown that all life begins in a single cell, from which the 
organs of the new being gradually arise. The most important lesson 
taught by embryology is that the embryo in its development passes through 
various stages of its ancestry, resembling now one, now another, of the 
lower animals, and gains for a brief time organs which some of its ancestors 



CHARLES P. IR WIN AND DE I ELt 1PMENT ( )/■' S( YEN( ~E 583 

possessed permanently. Of these facts the must significant is that the 
embryo of man develops gill-slits like those which the fish The Sciences of 
uses in breathing. These are of no use to it and soon disap- the Embryo 
pear, but their appearance is very strong evidence that the an e OSM 
fish form lay in the line of man's ancestry, and that man has developed 
through a long series of the lower animals. 

In palaeontology, or the study of fossil forms of animals and plant life, 
we have the embryology of races as contrasted with that of individuals. 
The study of the multitude of these forms which has been collected within 
the past century has enabled man to fill many of the gaps which formerly 
appeared to divide animal forms, and has furnished very strong arguments 
in favor of the descent of new species from older ones. One of the most 
striking of these facts is that in relation to the horse, of which a practically 
complete series of ancestral forms have hem found, leading from a small 
five-toed animal, far back in geological time, through forms in which the 
toes decrease in number and the animal increases in size until the large 
single-toed horse is reached. 

Two other organic sciences, those of anatomy and physiology, have 
added enormously to our knowledge of animated nature. Anatomy, which 
is of high practical importance from its relation to surgery, is a science of 
ancient origin, many important facts concerning it having been discovered 
by the physicians of old Greece and Rome. This study continued during 
later centuries, and by the opening of the nineteenth the gross anatomy 
of the human frame was fairly well known, and many facts in its finer 
anatomy had been traced. In later anatomical work the mici has 

played an active part, ami has yielded numbers of important revelations. 

What is known as comparative anatomy has formed perhaps the most 
important field of nineteenth century study in this domain of 
science. Though this branch of anatomical study is as old as ''^tlly' 
Aristotle, little was done in it from his time to that of Cuvier, 
who was the founder of the science of palaeo . and the first to show 

that the forms and affinities of fossil forms could he deduced from the study 
of existing animals. If a fossil jaw were found, tor instance, with the teeth 
of a ruminant, it could be taken for that it came from an animal 

whose feet had hoofs instead of claws. It is often said that Cuvier could 
construct an animal from a single bom-, and though this is saying much 
more than the facts bear out, he did make some marvelous predictions of 
this kind. 

A notable triumph of the science of comparative anatomy was the pre- 
diction made by Cope, Marsh, and Kowajewsky, from tin- fact that specialized 



584 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 

forms are preceded by others of more generalized structure, that an animal 

must once have existed with affinities, on the one hand, with hoofed 

„ , .. animals, and on the other with the carnivores and the lemurs 

Predictions 

Concerning This prediction was fulfilled in the discovery of the fossil 
Fossil An- Phenacodus in the Eocene deposits of the western United 
States. The study of comparative anatomy, particularly in its 
application to fossil forms, has aided greatly in the acceptance of the doc- 
trine of evolution, and has been specially valuable in classification, as show- 
ing how nearly animals are related to each other. To classify animals and 
plants, in short, may be simply stated as a method of sorting them over and 
placing together those which have similar characters, just as in arranging a 
library we keep together books which relate to similar subjects. We may, 
for instance, make one general branch of history, a smaller branch of 
American history, and yet others relating to states, to counties, to cities 
and towns, and, most special of all, to particular families. 

The science of physiology differs from that of anatomy in dealing with 
the functions of life instead of with its forms. The study of these func- 
tions has g;one on for many centuries, covering- the various 
p^ 0v ? r .' es in operations of motion, nutrition, respiration, nervous action, 
growth, and reproduction, with the many minor functions 
included under these. Though many of the facts of physiology were dis- 
covered in earlier centuries, the scientists of the nineteenth have been busy 
in adding to the list, and a number of important discoveries have been 
made. Prominent among these is that of anaesthesia, the discovery that 
by the inhalation of certain gases a state of temporary insensibility can be 
produced, lasting long enough to permit surgical and dental operations to 
be performed without pain; and that of antiseptical surgery, in which, by the 
employment of other chemical substances, wounds can be kept free from 
the action of deleterious substances, and surgical operations be performed 
without the perils formerly arising from inflammation, — the disease-produc 
ing germs and poisons being kept out. 

One of the great gains of the century, says Sir Michael Foster, from 

whom we have already quoted, is in our insight into nervous phenomena. 

" We now know that what takes place along a tiny thread we call & 

nerve fibre differs from that which takes place along its fellow threads; 

that differing nervous impulses travel along different nerve 

,v i",? „ reJ ? s fibres ; and that nervous and psychical events are the outcome 
of the Brain ' _ r - 

of the clashing of nervous impulses as they sweep along the 
closely woven web of living threads, of which the brain is made. We 
have learned by experiment and observation that the pattern of the web 



CHARLES />. IRWIN AND DE 1 ELOPMENT < >/■ S( IENCE 585 

determines the play of the imp I and we can already explain many of 

the obscure problems, not only of n disease, but of nervous life, by an 

analysis, tracking out the devious and linked paths of the nervous threads." 

This observation links together the sciences of physiology and psycho- 
logy, the latter the science of mental phenomena, the exact study of which 
1 ; ly belongs to the nineteenth century. Broad as this subject is, and 
much as has been done in it. few facts stand out with sufficient distinctness 
to call for special mention here. The most famous psychical experirm 
are those made on the brains of some of the animals below man, and espe- 
cially on that of the monkey, by which the functions of the several sec; ions 
of the brain have been to some extent mapped out, the important fact being 
discovered that each function is confined to a fixed locality in the brain, and 
with it the accordant fact that certain regions of the brain control the mus- 
cular movements of certain parts of the body. In consequent 
a particular affection of the hand, foot, or other region has often 
been traced to a diseased condition of some known part of the brain, and 
the trouble has been removed by a surgical operation on that organ. 

The sciences last named refer specially to man, in whom they have 
been particularly studied. Other sciences relating to him exclusively are 
those of ethnology and anthropology, which belong almost solely to the 
nineteenth century. Ethnology, the study of the races of mankind, has 
been carefully and widely studied, and though the problems relating to it 
have not yet been solved, a very fair conception has b lined ol the 

diversities and relations of mankind. Anthropology, embracing, as it does, 
archaeology, has been prolific in discoveries. Archaeological 
research has laid out before us the pathway of man through Man's Past 
the ages and shown his gradual and steady development, 
through the successive periods of chipped stone and polished stone imple- 
ments, of bronze and iron tools and weapons, with his gradual development 
of potterv. ornament, art, architecture, etc. 

The most striking and notable fact in anthropological science is the 
total reversal of our ideas concerning the length of time man has dwelt 
upon the earth. The old limitation to a few thousand years, everwhere held 
at the beginning of the century, fails to reach back to a time when, as we 
now know, man had reached a considerable degree of civilization. Back of 
that we can trace him by his tools and his bones through a period many 
times more distant, leading back to the glacial age of geology and possibly 
to a much more remote era. Instead of man's residence upon the earth 
being restrict, d to some 6,000 years, it probably reached back not less than 
60.000. and possibly to a much earlier period. 



5 86 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 

Among the minor sciences, there is one that has deserved that name 
only within the past thirty or forty years, the science of medicine. Formerly 
it was an art only, and by no means a satisfactory one. Nothing was known 
of the cause of the most virulent and destructive diseases — the infectuous 
Development of fevers, the plague, cholera, etc. And the treatment of these, 
the Science and in fact of nearly all diseases, was wholly empirical, 
of Medicine depending solely upon experiment, not at all upon scientific 
principles. Experience showed that certain drugs and chemical compounds 
produced certain effects upon the system, and upon this physicians 
depended, with no conception of the cause of diseases and little knowl- 
edge of the physiological action of medicines. 

This state of affairs was materially changed during the final third of 
the nineteenth century, as the result of an extensive series of observations, 
set in train in great part by Louis Pasteur, Professor of chemistry at the 
Sorbonne in Paris, who was in large measure the originator of the germ 
theory of disease. The discovery that the fermentation which produces 
alcohol is due to a microscopic organism, the yeast-plant, gave Pasteur the 
clue, and he soon was able to prove that other fermentations, — the lactic, 
acetic, and butyric, — are also due to the action of living forms. It had 
further been found that the putrefaction of animal substance 

Pasteur and His wag causec } j n t h e same wav anc { j t has since been abundantly 
Discoveries ' ' 

demonstrated that if these minute organisms can be kept out 

of animal and vegetable substances these may be preserved indefinitely. 
This fact has given rise to one of the most important industries of the 
century, the keeping of fruits, meats, etc., by the process of air-tight 
canning. 

Pasteur next extended his observations to the silkworm, which was 
subject to an epidemic disease that had almost ruined the silk industry in 
France. Others before him had discovered what were supposed to be 
disease germs in the blood of these worms. He proved positively that 
these bacteria, as they are called, are the cause of the disease, and that 
infection could be prevented by proper precautions. From the insect 
Pasteur proceeded to the higher animals, and investigated the cause of 
splenic fever, a dangerous epidemic among farm cattle. This he also 
proved to be caused by a minute form of life, and that fowl cholera is due 
to still another form of micro-organism. At a later date he studied hydro- 
phobia, which he traced to a similar cause, and for the cure of which he 
established the Pasteur Institute in 1886. 

This was not the whole of Pasteur's work. He discovered not only 
the cause of these diseases, but a system of vaccination by which they could 



CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 5.S7 

>e cured or prevented. By ''cultivating" the bacterid in various ways, he 
;ucceeded in decreasing their dangerous properties, so that they would give 
he disease in a mild form, — acting in the same way as vaccination docs in 
he case of small-pox, by enabling the animals to resist virulent attacks of 
he disease. 

Pasteur's work was performed largely on the lower animals. Others 
lave devoted themselves to the infectuous diseases which attack the human 
rame, and with remarkable success. Robert Koch, a German physician, 
ipplied himself to the study of cholera, which lie proved in Koch and 
:883 to be due to a germ named by him, from its shape, the the Comma 
:omma bacillus. He discovered about the same time the B^ 1 "" 5 
)acterial organism which causes the fatal disease of tuberculosis, or con- 
iumption. Other investigators have traced typhoid and yellow fevers, 
liphtheria, and some other infectuous diseases to similar causes, and the 
■tudy of diseases of this character has at last gained the status of a science. 

Methods of cure are also becoming scientific. These minute onjfan- 
sms, once introduced within the body, tend to increase in number at an 
imazing rate, feeding on the blood and tissues, and giving off substances 
:alled toxines which in some cases are of highly poisonous character. To 
>vercome their effect inoculation of anti-toxines is practiced. These are 
'ielded by the same bacteria as produce the toxines, and inoculation with 
hem enables the system to resist the action of the toxin poisons. 

We must dismiss this broad subject with this brief consideration, saying 

urther that it is still largely in the stage of experiment, and that many of 

ts theories must be left to the twentieth century for proof. Its study, 

lowever, has been of inestimable value in another direction, that of antiseptic 

ureery, a mode of treatment of surgical wounds introduced 

';•• t i 1 ■ 1 1 1 11 11 Antiseptic Sur. 

>y Sir Joseph Lister, and now used by all surgeons with the gery 

nost beneficial effects. It being recognized that inflamma- 

Lon and putrefactive action in wounded tissues are due to the action of 

lisease germs introduced by the air or by the hands and instruments of the 

operators, the greatest care is now taken, by the use of chemical substances 

atal to those germs, to prevent their entrance. As a result many diseases 

mce common in hospitals — pyaemia, septicaemia, gangrene and erysipelas — 

Save almost disappea ver and the formation of pus are prevented, and 

lealing is rapid and continuous, while surgeons now daringly and succ< 

ully undertake operations in the most secret recesses of the body, which 

ormerly would have led to certain death. 

A secondary result of the germ theory of disease is the great adva 

n hygiene which, formerly almost non-existent, has now reached the status 



588 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 

of a science. It is still against these perilous germs that continuous battl 

is kept up, absolute cleanliness being the ultimatum at whicl 
The Science of , . . . ,->, . , , , i 

Hygiene physicians aim. Disease germs lurk everywhere, and cai 

only be combatted by incessant care. The bacteria of choler 

and typhoid fever, for example, are known to be conveyed in water, and th 

former epidemics of these diseases were in great measure due to the fre 

use of polluted water for drinking. Their ravages have been larger 

arrested by boiling, filtering or otherwise purifying drinking water, whil 

the free use of carbolic acid and other antiseptics in hospitals has put a; 

end to the reign of infection which once made those places hives of disease 

We may fitly conclude this chapter with reference to a subject severs 
times referred to in its pages, and which is looked upon as the greates 
scientific theory of the century, that of evolution. The belief that ne: 
species of animals and plants arise through development from older ones i 
not of recent origin, but is at least as old as Aristotle. It was taught b 
Harvey, Erasmus Darwin, Gcethe, and others in the eighteenth centurj 
but the first attempt to develop a general theory of organic evolution wa 
made by Lamarck, in the early part of the succeeding century. Lamarck' 
view, however, that the variations in animals are the result of efforts o: 
their part to gain certain results, — the neck of the giraffe, for instance 
growing longer through its attempt to browse on leaves just out of reach,— 
did not gain acceptance, and it was not until after the middle of the centur 
that a more satisfactory theory was presented. 

The theory of evolution, as now understood, was arrived at simulta 
Darwin and neously by Alfred Russell Wallace and Charles Darwin, i 

Natural Se- being fully worked out by the latter in his " Origin of Specie 
lotion by Means of Natural Selection," published in 1859. Th] 

theory — that the changes in animals are due to the struggle for existenci 
amone vast multitudes, and the survival of those whose natural variation 
in form give them an advantage over their fellows in the battle of life — i: 
now accepted by the great body of scientists, while the general idea of evolu 
tion has been extended to cover all changes in the universe, inorganic a: 
well as organic. This extension has been the work of Herbert Spencer anc 
many other scientific and philosophical writers, and no domain of nature i: 
now left outside of the range of evolutionary forces. The argument whicl 
makes man himself a result of evolution, and not a product of special creation 
was the final one presented by Darwin, and has given point to a multitudf 
of observations in the science of anthropology made since his day. 




>OETS 



CHAPTER XL. 

Literature and Art in the Nineteenth Century. 

""'OR a^es the world has swarmed with writers. Almost since man first 
began to think he has been actively engaged in literary labor; longi 
indeed, before he had learned the: art of writing, and when the work 

his mind could be preserved only in his memory and that of his fellows. 
nd the progress of man down the ages is starred with names that gleam 
:e suns in the firmament of thought, those of such great magicians of the 
tellect as Homer, Virgil, Dante, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, and a 
>st besides. In this field of human effort, therefore, the The Literary 
neteenth century has nothing peculiar to show. Its finest Giants of For- 
aors are surpassed by those of others who lived centuries or mer imes 
es ago. Here, almost alone in the circle of human lebors, the century 
; deal with stands on the level of many of its predecessors and below 
at of others. Its single claim to distinction is an extraordinary activity 
literary production, and especially in the field of noyelistic fiction, which 
may in great measure claim as its own. The novel befo nineteenth 

ntury was a crude pioneer; within the century it has grown into a product 

the most advanced culture. 

What has been said about literature may be repeated about art. 

lat, too, seemingly reached its culmination in the past, and the artists of 

■day can merely seek to emulate, they cannot hope to surpass, those of 

rmer centuries. Sculpture, for instance, reached its highest 

. - . . ~ , . . , The Standing 

ige of perfection in Greece, and painting in mediaeval of the line 

.irope ; and strive as our artists may, they seem incapable Arts in the 

Past am" ' 
Present 



producing works of superior beauty and charm to those of 



e long ago. The architecture of to-day is largely a rescript 
that of the past, the original ideas are few, nobler and more beautiful 
nceptions are wanting. Of the remaining hnc. arts, music and poetry — 
we may class the latter in this category — the work of former centuries re- 
iins unsurpassed, ami the best that can be done with the nineteenth century 
thors and artists is to mention their works and speak of their styles : it is 
possible to place them on a pedestal overlooking that of their predecessors 

59i 



593 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

Yet while what has been said is true as a whole, the literature of at least 
one country is almost wholly a product of the nineteenth century. This 
is the United States, which had writers, but little which fairly deserves the 
name of literature, prior to 1800. Aside from the famous papers of the 
Federalist, the work of the great statesmen of the Constitutional Convention, 

the writings of one or two authors of the Revolutionary period, 
E ^ y Amencan and some of those of Benjamin Franklin, this country possessed 

hardly any literature, truly so-called, before the days of Wash- 
ington Irving, whose polished "Sketch Book" essays, popular histories oi 
Columbus and Mahomet, and humorous " History of New York," first taught 
the English critics that Americans could write as well as fight and work, and 
that a new world of thought was likely to arise beyond the waters. Irving was 
not alone. Contemporary with him were a number of graceful poets, chiei 
among them being William Cullen Bryant, whose " Thanatopsis," still an 
American classic, is perhaps unequalled in depth of reflection and grandeui 
of thought by the work of any other author of nineteen years of age. 

Bryant, however, did not rise above this early effort, but rather declined, 
and he has been far surpassed in poetic fervor and richness of diction and 
conception by a number of his successors, notably Whittier, Longfellow and 
Lowell, men worthy to occupy a place beside the famous English poets ol 
the century. Of these, Longfellow has gained the widest reputation, not, 
however, through force of superior genius, but from the sweetness, grace 

and ease of his diction and the popular character of his themes 

The Poets of the anc j h an cUina-, which have fitted his verse to touch the heart of 
United States ? ' - 

the people in all lands. Lowell was not only a poet of rare 

depth of thought, but stands as the first of American satirists, his " Biglow 

Papers" being among the keenest and most humorous works of satire of 

the century, while they rank with the most purely national of American 

works. Of other American poets, of whom many of fine powers might 

be named, we shall mention only Edgar Allan Poe, the most original in style 

and musical in tone of all our writers of verse ; the witty and genial Oliver 

Wendell Holmes ; and Ralph Waldo Emerson, whose verse, while lacking 

polish and smoothness, is rich in poetic thought. 

It was rather in his philosophy than in his poetry that the rich 

imagination and fine powers of reflection of Emerson made themselves 

manifest, and his essays stand prominent among the finest thought products 

of the century. They are expressed in telling apothems, of which many 

are little poems in themselves, while his works are instinct with the finest 

spirit of altruism and optimism, taking the most hopeful and cheerful views 

of the future of man and his institutions. 



LITERATURE AND ART IN Till-: NINETEENTH ( RY 593 

Among popular American novelists James Fenimore Cooper stands as 
e pioneer, his tales of ocean and Indian life, while of no superior merit as 
;erature, holding a wide audience by their spirit of adventure and carc- 
1 elaboration. Most original of our writers is Nathaniel Hawthorne, 
e "Scarlet Letter," "Marble Faun," and other novels stand in a field of 
ieir own among the productions of the century, and take rank with the b 
" European productions. For the sensational and lurid tale Poe stands first, 
id his genius in this direction still brings him readers, despite the impossible 
cidents of many of his plots. < >f other novelists we may 
ime Harriet Beecher Stowe, with her famous "Uncle 1 tun's A ™ encan 

.Novelists 

abin ;" Howells, our leading naturalistic novelist ; Edward 
iverett Hale, made famous by his "Man Without a Country;" Edward 
in, with the flavor of frontier life in his " Hoosier Schoolmaster." 
,ew Wallace, who touched a deep vein of popular approval in his " Ben 
lur ;" Henry James, too scholarly perhaps to be highly popular, but of the 
nest literary skill ; Helen Hunt Jackson, whose " Ramona" depicts in thrill- 
lg idealism the wrongs of the Indians; and — but we must stop here, for as 
e approach the present day novelists of merit so throng the field of view 
lat we cannot venture even to name them. 

Not the least notable field of American literature lies in the domain of 
istory, in which the authors of our country hold their own with the best of 
lose abroad. Irving's graceful, though not critical, works of Historians of 
istory we have mentioned. Greatest in this field stands the United 
lancroft, whose history of our country is a classic of world- stat es 
r ide fame. Close beside him may be placed Prescott, with his glowing 
ictures of Spanish and Spanish-American life ; Motley, the skilled and 
opular historian of the Netherlands ; Parkman, who brilliantly pictures for 
sthe romance of French enterprise in America; McMaster, who ma}- fairly 
ose as the historian of the American people ; and Parton, whose historical 
iographies are among the most readable of American books of this 
haracter. 

Our greatest orators, men whose speeches have become literature, hold 
place in the history of our country. The famous Webster and Clay and 
'alhoun we have already described. Close after those come Sumner, 
ieward and others who stood high in the stirring period of the 
savil War and of reconstruction. Aside from public speakers tors 
evoted to statesmanship are many others of fame, including 
he eloquent Edward Everett ; the daring anti-slavery orator, Wendell 
'hillips ; the earnest platform apostle of temperance, John If Cough; the 
reatest of our pulpit orators, Henry Ward Beecher; the advocate of the 



594 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

'■ New South, Henry W. Grady ; the most amusing of our recent orators, 
Chauncey M. Depew, and others of fine powers whom the need of brevity 
forbids our naming. The mention of Depew's vein of humor calls to mind 
this domain of literature, of which our country has had many popular repre- 
sentatives, chief among whom stands the rollicking- and favorite Samuel L. 
Clemens (Mark Twain). 

It has not been proposed here to present more than a passing review of 
the authors of the United States, or to attempt to name all those of 
leading merit. We might have named in political economy Henry C.Carey ; 
in American history, John Fiske ; in European church history, Henry C. 
Lea ; and, in addition, eminent authors in legal lore, in science, in philos- 
ophy, in theology, and in other fields, all aiding to show the vast advance 
our people have made in this important direction since their feeble begin- 
nings in the early days of the century. 

Unlike the United States, Great Britain came to the nineteenth century 

with a great galaxy of famous writers, leading back through many centuries. 

The eighteenth century is rich in great names, including 

The Poets of ° r , i. ,, & „ , _, & 

Great Britain among its poets rope, Burns, Cowper, Oray and 1 nompson ; 

among its essayists, Addison, Swift and Johnson ; among its 

novelists, Richardson, Fielding, Smollet, Sterne, and Goldsmith ; among its 

historians Gibbon, Hume and Robertson. It crossed the portals of the 

nineteenth century with a galaxy of poets more brilliant than has appeared 

in any equal period of English literature, including the world-famous Byron, 

Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, Moore, Keats, Scott and Campbell, a 

group of writers which, taken as a whole, it would be difficult to match in 

any age. These sweet singers have been followed by others who have kept 

up the standard of British poetry, including Tennyson, one of the rarest of 

artists in words, the two Brownings, Matthew and Edwin Arnold, William 

Morris, Swinburne, the Rossettis, and various others of lesser note, among 

whom we must include Alfred Austin, the latest though not the most 

admired poet-laureate. These are but the elder flight of singing birds 

of the century, many younger ones being on the wing, among whom at 

present Rudyard Kipling leads the way. 

In the second field of imaginative literature, that of the novel, the 

British isles are abundantly represented, and by some of the most famous 

British NoveU names anywhere existing in this domain of intellectual activity. 

ists and The names alone of these writers form a catalogue rarely 

Historians equalled in the world's literature. It will suffice to name Scott, 

Thackeray, Dickens, Bulwer, Charlotte Bronte and Marion Evans as the 

most prominent among a multitude of able writers, containing many names 



LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH t ENTURY 595 

high in merit and rich in variety of style At the end of the century the 
field was crowded with writers of conspic ill. 

History has reached a high level in the hands of some of the ablest 
writers in this field known in any age, including Macaulay, Freeman, 
Froude, Grote, Thirwall, Hallam, Merivale, Buckle, Leckey, Carlyle and 
Green. Two of these, Carlyle and Macaulay, have won as high a place in 
the field of criticism and biography as in that of history. In art criticism 
Ruskin occupies a unique position, while theological subjects and religious 
thought are represented by such able exponents as Cardinal Newman, 
Dean Stanley, Canon Liddon, Dean Farrar, Martineau, Whately, Drummond, 
Spurgeon and many others. The great reviewers include Jef- 
frey, Sydney, Smith, Hazlitt, De Ouincey, Foster; the wits ot ^ r British 
Sheridan, Hook, Jerrold, Smith and Hood ; the philosophers 
Stewart, Bentham, Brown, Hamilton, Spencer and Stuart Mill ; and the scien- 
tists Owen, Faraday, Murchison, Darwin, Huxley, Tyndall and various others. 

The above named are merely some of the best known English writers of 
the century. If it were attempted to name all those of merit the list would be 
wearisomely long. The same may be said of the literary men of France, of 
whom many of world-wide fame flourished during the nineteenth century. At 
the beginning of the new age appeared the versatile Madame de Stael, and 
Chateaubriand with his famous " Genius of Christianity.'" These ushered 
in a host of able writers, of whom the leading lyric poets were Victor 
Hugo, Beranger, Lamartine and Alfred de Musset, and the most prom- 
inent novelists Hugo, Dumas, Sue, Balzac, Dudevant (George French Novel- 
Sand), succeeded in later years by the younger Dumas, istsand 
Feuillet, Murger, Zola, About and a host besides. Dra- Hist ° ri a n * 
matic writers have been little less numerous, and essayists and literary 
critics of merit might be named by the dozen, among them the well-known 
names of Renan, St. Beuve, Gautier, Taine, Girardin and Remusat. 

Perhaps the most successful branch of recent French literature is his- 
tory, around which a brilliant galaxy of great names has gathered. Prom- 
inent among these are Guizot, Thierry and Thiers, to whom may be added, 
as able writers of the history of their country, Sismondi, Michelet, Martin, 
Barante and Mignet. Other workers in this field are Lamartine and Ville- 
main, while in philosophy, sociology and the various branches of science 
the writers have been numerous, and many of them of high ability. 

The writers of Germany have been as prolific as those of England and 

France, though the greatest names of that country, such giants of thought 

as Gcethe, Schiller, and Kant, belong to the closing period of the eighteenth 

century, and have found no equals in the nineteenth. Kant was succeeded 

33 



596 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

by three other great metaphysical philosophers, Fichte, Schelling, ami 

Hegel, the four forming a group nowhere matched for depth of thought in 

any similar period of time. In poetry, Gcethe and Schiller 

German Poets were succeeded by the songr writers Korner, Arndt, Ruckert, 
and Novelists J ° . . 

and Uhland, while of the poets of later date Heine undoubtedly 

ranks first. Fiction was enormously developed during the century, Gustav 
Freytag being one of the most eminent novelists, while others of note were 
Hacklancler, Spielhagen, Heyse, Ebers, Auerbach, and of women writers 
Ida von Hahn-Hahn, Fanny Lewald, Schopenhauer, and Marlitt. Famous 
authors who have dealt with the mysterious agencies of nature are De la 
Motte Fouque, the author of the charming " Undine," Chamisso, with his 
fantastic " Peter Schlemihl," and Hoffmann, whose tales of wonder and 
fantasy are of the first merit. Best known among fantastic and imaginative 
writers is Jean Paul Richter, whose satirical and humorous novels had a 
striking effect upon German thought at the beginning of the century. Of 
German humorists, Fritz Reuter occupies perhaps the highest rank. 

In the field of science and exploration the literature of Germany is rich. 
German Scien- Scientific travel was given a great impetus by the famous 
tistsand works of Alexander von Humboldt, — "Cosmos," " Views of 

Historians Nature," etc.,— and his example has been abundantly followed. 
Among his more famous successors are Martins, the learned traveler in 
Brazil ; Tschudi, in Peru ; Lepsius and Brugsch, in Egypt ; Gutzlaff, in 
China; Barth, Vogel, and Schweinfurth, in Africa; and Leichhardt, in 
Australia. 

In scientific literature of high value Germany is strong, its writers 
including Bessel, Encke, Madler, and Struve, in astronomy ; Midler, Ehren- 
berg, Liebig, Virchow, Vogel, Helmholtz, Haeckel, Kirchhoff, von Baer, 
and many others in natural science. The historians are of unsurpassed 
critical excellence, and embrace Von Ranke, Curtius, Mommsen, von Muller, 
Heeren, Niebuhr, Neander, Menzel, and many more. In philology and 
critical study may be named Wolf, Hermann, the brothers Grimm, Bopp, 
Benecke, and Haupt. Critical essayists include the two Schlegels, von 
Hardenberg (Novalis), Tieck, Schelling, and Wilhelm von Humboldt. 

This is by no means an exhaustive list of the prominent German 

authors of the nineteenth century, and we must deal still more briefly with 

the other nations of Europe. Russia may fairly be ranked with the United 

States, as being, in a literary sense, largely confined to the 

he Literatu nineteenth century. It had some writers of merit of earlier 
of Russia J 

date, largely poets and fabulists, but the first prose writer of 

excellence of style was Nicholas Karamzin, whose famous " History of the 



LITERATURE AND AR'l IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

Russian Empire " began to in 1815. Poetry also became more merit- 

orious in this period, Alexander Pushkin, the greatest of Russian poets, giv- 
ing to the world sonic charming narratives in verse, [van Kriloff won fame 
as a writer of fables, while other poets of merit appeared, among them 
Koltsov, the writer of Russian national songs. 

In the field of fiction the first of special merit was Nicholai Gogol, 
one of the most powerful of Russian novelists ; but the first to gain a 
European fame was Ivan Turgeneff. Greatest among hi rs is 

Count Leo Tolstoi, who entered this field with "War and Peace," the record 
of his experience in the Crimean war. His radical studies oi the problems 
of social life have since led to a number of works of striking character, 
which have won him a world-wide fame. In romantic fiction Russian writers 
have gained much celebrity, and they include able authors in history, science: 
ar I other fields. 

The three Scandinavian nations, Denmark, Sweden and Norway, have 
been active in literary production, and p many authors oi national 

fame, and several who are read and admired throughout the world. Of 
high standing among the poets of Sweden is the popular poet Runeberg, 
born in Finland in 1804, who possessed a poetic genius of the highest 
quality. Rut the most celebrated poet of Sweden is Esaias Tegner, whose 
"Frithiof's Saga" has won him a world-widi 1 having been translated in- 

to the principal modern languages, though with great loss of the 
beauty of the original. Almquist, a man of line genius and ^Sweden 
wide knowledge, was a poet and novelist of the romantic 
school, his novels including "Hook of the Rose," "The Palace," etc. 
Stagnelius, another poet of eminence, obtained fame by his epic of 
"Wladimir the Great." The novelists include several well-known women 
writers, the productions of Fredrika Bremer and Emilie Carlen having 
gained popularity in English translations. Fredrika Runeberg, wii 
the poet, was also a popular novelist, while favorite male writers of histori- 
cal novels include Mellin, Sparre, Topelius, and Rydberg, the last also a 
popular poet. Wetterbergh (Uncle Adam) gained reputation by his 
humorous tales of Swedish home lite. 

Most famous of the poets of Norway is Wergeland, the Schiller of his 
country, his works including tragedies, poems and satires. Various later 
writers followed in his line, including Moe, Jensen, Kjerulf and Thomsen. 
Chief among Norwegian novelists is Bjornson, the author of a series 
of charming studies of the peasant life of his country, all which pular 

in English speaking countries. Others who have wrought in the same 
are Thoresen and Lie. But most famous of the recent writers of Norway 



593 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

Is the dramatist Ibsen, a thorough playwright on historical and romantic 
Literarure of themes, and on social problems. It is the striking and radical 
Sweden and character of his productions in the last named field, including 
" A Doll's House" and various others, to which he owes his 
widespread fame, and the severe criticism with which his works have 
been assailed. 

The Danish literature of the nineteenth century opened with Jens 
Baggesen, whose lyrics, mock-heroic poems, and " Comic Tales " are much 
admired. The great poet of Denmark, however, is Oehlenschlager, who 
produced tragedies of the highest merit, while his splendid epic poem, 
"The Gods of the North," is one of the noblest modern works of this 
character. Of the many other Danish writers of the century we shall name 
only the famous Hans Christian Andersen, whose folk-tales are household 
words throughout the world. 

The literary fame of Spain rests with its authors of the past, there 

being few of notable merit of recent date. Much the same must be said in 

regard to Italy, the latest of its great poets and dramatists, Alfieri, dying in 

1803. One of its most famous nineteenth century writers was Ugo Foscolo, 

whose political romance, " Letters of Jacopo Ortis," published about 1800, 

became immensely popular. His finest work is considered to be " The 

Monuments," an admirable lyric poem. Count Leopardi also attained to 

high eminence as a poet, and Manzoni as a novelist and 
Writers of Italy , ■ i ■ t r, 1 1 t >> /,, t t-, • r> ■ >>\ 

dramatist, his Betrothed Lovers ( 1 Promessi bposi ), 

having a wide reputation as a vivid picture of Italian society of the seven- 
teenth century. We shall speak of only one other, Silvio Pellico, whose 
work, " My Prisons," descriptive of his own sufferings in Austrian prisons, is 
a classic of its kind and has been widely translated. 

This rapid review by no means exhausts the meritorious ninetenth 
century authors of Europe, whose smaller countries possess their writers of 
fame. Hungary, for instance, presents to us the prolific novelist Jokai, whose 
works are read in all civilized lands. Poland, no longer a country, merely a 
people, has its famous novelists, chief among them being H. Sienkiewiez, 
author of the popular " Quo Vadis." The same may be said of the Nether- 
lands and of Switzerland, to the latter of which the United States was 
Other Cele- indebted for one of its most eloquent scientific writers, the 

brated celebrated Louis Agassiz. Of course, the literature of merit 

in the nineteenth century has not been confined to Europe and 
the United States. Canada, for instance, has produced able writers, and the 
same may be said of the British colonies of Australia and South Africa, 
while the nations of Spanish-America have also produced noted authors. 



LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 599 

VVe have said in the beginning of this chapter that literature has made 
no recent advance, writers of conspicuous merit reaching far back into the 
past. The " Iliad" of Homer, fur example, back some three thousand 

years, and Dante belongs to an early era of mediaeval Europe, neritof the 

Yet this assertion is I rue only in a general sense, that of the Literature of 
comparative merit of authors in style and depth of thought, * e as 
without regard to the character of their works. In a more! special sense, 
that of the distinctive varieties of literature, we may credit the nineteenth 

century with several marked steps of progress. The most meritorious 
works of tlie past ages wen- in the fields of poetry, drama, philosophy, 
oratory, and other branches of imaginative and metaphysical thought. The 
practice of accurate observation ami the literature arising from it are very 
largely of nineteenth century development. The literature oi travel, for 
instance, is confined in great measure to the past century, and the same may 
be said of that of science, the comparatively few scientific treatises of the 
past having been replaced byavast multitude of scientific works, rhesi 
in great measure confined to records of scientific observation and discover)-. 
Theoretical science, while very active in the past century, has scientific and 
yielded no works of higher merit than those of such older Historical 
writers as Aristotle, Copernicus. Kepler, Galileo, Newton and 
others of the older worthies. But the gathering of facts has been enor- 
mous, and great libraries of works of science to-day replace the scanty 
volumes of a century ago. 

A second field of nineteenth century advance is in the domain of his- 
tory. Idle history of the past is largely the annals of kings and the story 
of wars. Thucydides, the philosophical historian of Greece, had few suc- 
cessors before the century in question, within which written history has 
greatly broadened its scope, reaching to heights and to depths 

unattempted before. Histories of the people have for the first time 1 
written, and the outreach of historical research has been made to cover 
institutions, manners and customs, morals and superstitions, and a thorn 
things neglected by older authors. History, in short, has at once become 
philosophical and scientific, efforts being made in th . latter direction to 
sweep into its net everything relating to man, and in the former to disci 
the forces underlying the downward flow through time of the human race, 
ami to trace the influences which have given rise to the political, social and 
other institutions of mankind. 

A still more special field of nineteenth century literary development is 
that of the novel. Imaginative thought has existed for Ion.., and 

fictitious tales are as old as civilization, but in the ancient world these were 



600 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

couched in the form of poetic and dramatic literature, of fable, fairy tale, and 
the like. The first steps of approach towards the modern novel began in 
late Greek times, and the development of the tale continued through the 
The Novel and Middle Ages, though it failed to reach the level of what may 
its Develop- be distinctive 1 )- called the novel until the middle of the eight- 
ment eenth century. The novel, specially so called, is the character 

tale, the development of human personality under the guise of fiction. 
This was scarcely attempted in the prose works of the past, character draw- 
ing being then confined to the drama. Abundant works of romance and 
adventure were written, but it was left to Richardson, Fielding, and the 
contemporary French authors to produce character novels, works of fiction 
peopled by individual men and women, instead of by speaking puppets, 
shows of man in the abstract, as in earlier years. 

The novel attained some promising development in the latter part of 
the eighteenth century, but was still in a crude state at the opening of the 
nineteenth, when it was taken up by the powerful hand of Scott, whose 
remarkable works first fairly opened this new domain of intellectual enjoy- 
ment to mankind. Since his time the literature of the novel has grown stupen- 
dous in quantity and remarkable in quality, reaching from the most worthless 
and degraded forms of literary production to the highest regions of human 
thought. The novel, as now developed, covers almost the entire domain of 
intellectual production, embracing works of adventure, romance, literal and 
ideal pictures of life, humor, philosophy, religion, science, — forming indeed 
a great drag-net that sweeps up everything that comes in its way. 

There is another field of literary production, more humble but not less 
useful than those named, which has had an immense development in the 
past century, that of the school text-book. The text-books of earlier periods 
The Text-Book were of the crudest and most imperfect character as compared 
and Progress with the multitude of works, admirably designed to smooth 
the pathway to knowledge, which now crowd our schools. In 
connection with these may be named the great development in methods of 
education, and the spread of educational facilities, whose effect has been 
such that, whereas a century ago education was confined to the few, it now 
belongs to the many, and ignorance is being almost driven beyond the 
borders of civilized nations. These who cannot read and write are becom- 
ing a degraded minority, while a multitude of colleges and universities are 
yielding the advantages of the higher education to a constantly increasing 
multitude. 

By no means the least among the triumphs of the nineteenth century 
has been the enormous development of book-making. The wide-spread 



LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 601 

education of the people in recent times has created an extraordinary 

mand for books, there bein^r a thousand readers now to the one of a century 
or two ago. This demand has given rise to as extraordinary a supply, which 
is not offered in books alone, but in periodicals of the most varied character 
and scope, including a multitude of newspapers almost beyond vast Increase in 
comprehension. The United States alone, in addition to its Hooks and 
numerous magazines, issues more than twenty thousand dif- ewspapers 
ferent newspapers, of which the aggregate circulation reaches daily far up 
into the millions. 

The demand for reading matter could not have been a tenth part supplied 
with the facilities of a century ago, but mans powers in this direction have 
steadily increased. From the intellectual side, the advance in education has 
provided a great number of men competent to cater to the multitude of 
readers, as authors in various fields, editors, reporter in army of able 

men and women being enlisted in this work. From the mechanical side, 
invention has served a similar purpose ; the paper-making machinery, with 
the use of wood as raw material, the mechanical type-setters, the rapid print- 
ing-presses, and other inventions having not only enormously increased the 
ability to produce books and newspapers, but cheapened them to such an 
extent that they are now within the reach of the poorest. A century ago 
such a thing as an one-cent new -piper was not known. Now a daily that 
sells for more than a cent is growing rare. A century ago only a few dic- 
tionaries, encyclopedias, and other works of reference were 
in existence, and those were within the reach only of the well- useof'Books 
to-do. Now works of this kind are very numerous, and they 
are being sold so cheaply and on such easy terms of payment, that they are 
widely spread through the families of artisans and fanners. 

In truth, the number of books pi i by wage-earners and agricul- 

turists to-day is very much -renter than those classes could possess a 
century ago, and the character of these works has improved so greatly that 
they serve a highly useful purpose in the advancement of popular education. 
In addition to the actual ownership of books, there has been so great an 
increase in libraries, and such an improvement in methods ,,f distribution, 
that books of all kinds are within the reach of the poorest of city people, 
and measures are being taken to place them at the disposal of country 
people as well. 

At the opening of the century tin; free library was almost unknown. 
At its close there was not a large city in the United States without its free 
library, and many small ones were similarly provided. In truth, the great 
librar) development in this country has been within the latter half of the 



6o2 LITERATURE AND ART IN NINETEENTH CENTURY 

century. In 1850 there were only eighty-one libraries in the United 
States that contained over 5,000 volumes, and the total number of books 
in them was less than a million, a much smaller number than could be found 
The Develop- ' n tne libraries of Paris alone. No single American library 
merit of at that date contained over 75,000 volumes. In 1900 there 

were more than a dozen with over 100,000 volumes each, some 
of these possessing considerably over half a million books. Thus the Boston 
Public Library contained over 600,000 volumes, while a still larger number 
was housed within the Congressional Library at Washington, in what is the 
finest and most magnificently decorated library building in the world, with 
room to accommodate as many as 4,000,000 volumes. The great libraries 
of the United States are far surpassed in number of books by those of the 
leading capitals of Europe, and particularly by that of Paris, which con- 
tains the enormous number of more than 2,500,000 volumes. 

What has been said about literature can scarcely be repeated about art. 
The nineteenth century has developed no new species of fine art, and in its 

productions in sculpture, painting, architecture and music has 
Art in Past . , r , ,. 

Centuries given us no works superior to those 01 the earlier centuries. 

Many names of artists of genius in this century could be 
given, if necessary, but as these names indicate nothing original in style or 
superior in merit there is no call to present them. The advance of the 
nineteenth century has been rather in the cheap production and wide dis- 
semination of works of art than in any originality of conception. 

In this direction the greatest advance has been made in pictorial art. 
Methods of engraving have been very greatly cheapened, and the photograph 
has supplied the world with an enormous multitude of faithful counterparts 
of nature. Among the many ways in which this form of art has been 
applied, one of the most useful is that of book illustration. The ordinary 
"picture-book" of the beginning of the century was an eye-sore of frightful 
Great Progress character, its only alleviation being that the cost of illustra- 
ln Pictorial tions prevented many of them being given. The " half-tone" 

method of reproduction of photographs has made a wonder- 
ful development in this direction, pictures that faithfully reproduce in black 
and white scenes of nature or works of art being now made with such 
cheapness that book illustrations of superior character have grown very 
abundant, and it has become possible to illustrate effectively the daily news- 
paper, laying before us in pictorial form the scenes of events that hap- 
pened only a few hours before. 



CHAPTER XLI. 

The American Church and the Spirit of Human 

Brotherhood. 

AS the century draws toward its end, and men make careful survey of 
the work it has wrought in the many and varied fields of human 
activity, it is natural that each observer should take a special interest 
n the department which constitutes his specialty. The statesman studies 
:he social and political phenomena and forces of the age. The scientist, 
:he educator, the manufacturer, the financier, the merchant, find in their 
respective spheres problems to be taken in hand and carefully investigated, 
:hat the experience of the past may become wisdom for the future. While 
this division of labor may tend to develop one-sidedness in the individual, it 
provides ample material for the true student of history, who, by collecting 
:he data furnished by these various investigators, may make 
wide and wise generalizations, and thus contribute to a more '^jjor ° 
:omplete study of human nature and human history. The 
increase of general interest among special observers and students will ensure 
in due time co-op-ration, increased intelligence, and enthusiasm in the 
promotion of the highest civilization. 

As the* procession of the years which form the most wonderful century 
af human history closes its solemn march, those; who look on time as 
deriving its chief worth from its relations to eternity, and who estimate 
civilization as it bears upon the immortal character of man, will of necessity 
judge a century by its religious quality ami results, asking : What place has 
religion held, what work has it wrought, what errors have weakened it, what 
are the tendencies which now dominate it, what are the opportunities which 
open before it ? 

The American type of Christianity is in advance of all other Christian 
types, since it grows among and permeates political and Amer ican 
social ideas and institutions which give it larger and fuller oppor- Type of 
tunities than it has ever before known, opportunities to 
develop humanity (u-\ all sides and in all relations. The American Church 
is made up of all individuals, classes, societies, and agencies which bear the 
Christian name or hold the Christian thought. It is not a "State Church." 

605 



6o 5 THE AMERICAN CHURCH 

It is not a " union Church" — constituted by the formal unification of diverse 
sects or denominations. It embraces all believers (and in a sense all 
citizens) without visible consolidation ; it favors all without legislative 
interference ; it gives freedom to all without partiality or discrimination. 

The distinguishing feature of American life — which makes what we 
call " freedom " mean more and promise more than does the civil, political 
and religious freedom of any other land, and which therefore gives a dis- 
tinctive character to the American Church — is that the liberty of the 
individual has large and unhampered opportunity for growth and action. 
Individual liberty here is actual liberty; unhindered by governmental pro- 
visions for privileged classes, who, by the accident of birth, leap into place 
and prerogative without merit of their own, and whose unearned advantage 
is detrimental to the well-being of the multitude. It is liberty which carries 
with it opportunity, — the liberty of the lowest in the nation to reach the 
rank of the highest ; of the poorest to become the richest ; of the most 
ignorant to become the most learned ; of the most despised to become the 
Distinguishing most honored ; the liberty of every man to know all that he 
Feature of can know, to be all that he can be, and do all that he pleases 
1 ' e to do, so long as he does not interfere with the right of any 
other man to know all that he can know, to be all that he can be, and to do 
all that he pleases to do. It is the liberty among brothers, who, with all the 
prerogatives of individuality, need not forget the brotherhood of man, and 
who have every inducement not merely to guarantee to each other this 
regal right of full personal development, but who easily learn how to render 
mutual aid — every man helping every other man to know all that he can 
know, be all that he can be, and to do all that he pleases to do. 

This, then, is the ideal of American civilization : A nation of equals, 
who are brothers. This is the doctrine of the closing American century; 
the root of the goodly tree that covers such ample area with its fruitful and 
bending branches ; the vine which the right hand of the Lord our God hath 
planted ; this the lesson running along the bars and shining out of the stars 
of our national flag. It is necessary that the race experiment with this great 
idea of freedom and fraternity. It is an idea that sounds well in rhyme and 
song, but it must stand the test of practice as well ; and is it capable of this? 
May this large Gospel of the Christ be realized by a nation, and this nation 
become in spirit and fact a church ? This is the olorious thought runninLr 
through the civilization of our century, and this we believe to be the pur- 
pose of the God of nations. 

The distinctive feature of the nineteenth century in America is the 
struggle for the recognition of these two noble ideas : The freedom of the 



THE AMERICAN CHURCH 

bdividual and the brotherhood of the race. And this thought is thoroughly 
religious. It is pre-eminently Christian. It was taught, enforced, and illus- 
trated by the Nazarene. It is asserting itself in our civilization. The work 
s now going on. It has not gone far, but it is hound to go on to the blessed 
|nd. The leaven is working every day. We are in the midst of the gn 
ixperiment. 

The American Church is not a State Church. It is supported not by 
aw, but by love. No large subsidies corrupt it. No political complications 
weaken it. Church and State serve each other host when the only bond 
rween them is one of individual conviction and mutual confi- Development 
lence. The beginni the Republic were made by religi- oftheAmeri. 

mis nun, who organized rel communities. They sought 

)tir shores to ecure religii us liberty. Some of them may have been nar- 
■ow, but they were true and brave. Some of the fetters that bound thorn 
lad been severed, but some still remained. They had not ed the 

dea of an emancipated and responsible individuality. Protestants fled from 
he i verities of Roman rule, and Romans from the oppressions of I'roi 
mts. And it look a long time for Protestants to become \xw. But the 
bunders and fathers of the Republic were religious and God-fearing men 
bin v were simply pupils ("primary pupils" at that") in the school of human 
jigfhts and human brotherhood. The lessons were lone and hard. It has 
:aken more than a century to get half through the "first reader," and there 
s ample work for the century ahead, hut as a people wo are coming to 
;he life of the Church in the aims and order of the State, and to learn that 
God is in all history, that His claims upon men extend to all social relations, 
sanctifying all secular and political life, and embracing charity, sympathy, 
Lnd justice in the minutesl details of life, as well as awe, reverence and 
worship. 

Simultam ously with the rise of the Republic began the great Sunday- 
School system, which went everywhere with the open Bible and the living 

teacher, with inspiring Christian son-s, attractive hooks lor 

v 5 , -ii The Sunday- 

week-day reading, juvenile pictorial papers, social gatherings, SC hool System 
and the stimulating power of friendly fellowship in religious 
life. It brought the people together, old and young, learned and unlearned, 
rich and poor. It did more to " level up" society than any other agency in 
the Republic. It made the adult who taughl susceptible and affection 
childhood a hotter citizen. It prepared the children to be wiser, more con- 
scientious, and more loyal citizens in the next generation. In the widely ex- 
tended Methodist revival, and in the all-embracing Sunday-school movement, 
we =see the hand of Cod fashioning the Nation and the Church, that they 



/ 



60S THE AMERICAN CHURCH 

might be one in aim and spirit, and that through them might be promoted 
liberty, equality, and fraternity. 

The various branches or denominations of the American Church are 
influenced by these ruling ideas of the century ; the freedom and unre- 
stricted opportunity of the individual and the spirit of generous fraternity. 
The old warfare between the Protestant denominations has virtually ceased. 
Co-operation in religious and reformatory effort — the Young Men's Christian 
Association, the Women's Christian Temperance Union, the 
Associations Young People's Society of Christian Endeavor, the Inter- 
national Lesson system, the State and International Sunday- 
school Conventions, the Evangelical Alliance, the Chautauqua Assemblies, 
the exchange of pulpits, the frequent union revival meetings held by repre- 
sentative evangelists, the ease with which ministers pass from one denomina- 
tion to another, the warm, personal friendships between representative 
leaders of the several Churches, the growth and enrichment of non-denom- 
inational periodical literature — these are some of the signs of the larger 
thought now controlling our people. 

The American Church, which imposes no creed but the creed of the 

Republic, which knows no lines of division — sectarian, political, or ter- 

* ., , c ritorial — but which seeks the well-beino- of the individual and 
The Value of , , ° . 

Religion in the fellowship of all true citizens, will soon wield an immense 

Politics influence in matters political. It will discuss great ethical 

questions ; it will carry conscientiousness and independence into political 
action ; it will dissipate the weak heresy that Christians are not to take part 
in national affairs. In the days of Christ and the Apostles, the governing 
powers, the rulers of this world, were beyond the touch and control of the 
people. It was for them humbly to serve and uncomplainingly to suffer. 
But now all this has been changed. The people to-day stand where Csesar 
used to stand ; and to be a thoughtful, conscientious, active, consistent 
politician, is to be doing God's service. The church member who neglects 
political duty is guilty of sin against both God and the neighbor. The 
power of the people will be felt for good when the people begin to know 
and to defend the true and the good. They have during the century ex- 
pressed the purpose of the American Church on the subject of slavery. At 
its declaration the shackles have fallen. They pronounced against and 
destroyed the Louisiana Lottery. Through the press, the ballot, and the 
authority of law, the moral force of the nation expresses itself and the 
base conspirators surrender. So must it be with the saloon, and with all 
political evil. If politicians carry moral questions into the political arena, 
the pulpit and all other agencies of the church must go with the question 



THE AMERICAN CHURCH 

before the people, and lead them to consider it no less from the moral than 
from the political point of view. 

de from the development of the Christian religion as distinctively 
displayed in the United States, its progress in the world at been 

jreal and encouraging. Particularly has the spirit of sectarianism, strongly 
manifested a century ago, decreased in I nd fanaticism diminished. 

while the sentiment of union and brotherhood en churches of different 

sects has developed to a highly encouraging d 

Outside of Christendom the influences of the religion of Christ 
bave been widely spread by the active and enthusiastic labors of mis- 
sionaries, who have carried the lessons of the Gospels to all lands, and 
established Christianity among numerous trilu-s formerly in the lowest sta 
i( heathenism and idolatry. The success of these dev l>een 

much less among peoples po 1 of a religious faith of a higher grade, as 

:he Mohammedans, Hindoos, and Chinese, and perhaps the 
nost important results of their labors everywhere have been ; l r"'? n . : * ry 

r J Activity 

;hose of education and civilization, necessary preliminary 
n the case of ignorant and undeveloped peoples, to a just comprehension 
)f the principles of Christianity and the inculcation of advanced moral 
sentiments and the higfh standard of the Golden Rule. 

The religious history of the century does not end with the relation of 
:he progress of Christianity. There has indeed been some degree of 
■eaction of heathenism upon Christian countries, particularly in the case of 
Buddhism, whose doctrines have made their way into Europe and America, 
ind gained there a considerable body of adherents. This infiltration from 
vithout has developed into what is known as the Theosophical 
Society, which claims over 100,000 members in the United \" e g °" s 
stales alone. In addition may he named various new religious 
intgrowths of home origin, including the Mormons, the Spiritualists, the 
Christian Scientists, and others of less prominence. Similar new sects have 
irisen in Mohammedan and Hindoo countries, such as the Babists in Persia 
md the Brahmo Somaj in India, these latter being distinctive reforms on 
;he more ancient religious creeds and practice 

What has been said above does not show the full extent of the religious 
novement within the century. There has been an active spirit ol progress 
vithin the lines of denominational religion itself, and liberal sentiment has 
riade a marked and promising advance. The former insistance upon creed 
is the essential factor in religion has greatly weakened in favor of its ethical 
dement, and the supremacy of conduct over creed is openly taught. Again, 
;he old religion of fear is giving way before a new religion of love. The 



6io THE AMERICAN CHURCH 

doctrine of future punishment, and the attempt to swell the lists of church 
members by insistence upon the horrors of Hades, are rarely heard in 
The Religion of the pulpits of to-day, the old Hell-fire conception having be- 
Fear and of come at once too preposterous and too alien to the character of 
Love the All Wise and All Good to be any longer entertained except 

by the most ignorant of pulpit orators. In truth, the doctrines of the 
modern pulpit are rapidly rising towards the level of Christ's elevated teach- 
ings, and inculcating love and human brotherhood as the essential elements 
of the Christian faith. 

The growing spirit of liberalism has given rise to a large body of 
moralists who repudiate the idea that faith in a creed is essential to salva- 
tion, and claim that moral conduct is the sole religious element that is 
likely to influence the future destiny of mankind. Persons of this class 
are specially numerous in the ranks of the scientists, whose habit of close 
observation, and rigorous demand for established facts as the 
The Spirit of basis of all theoretical views, unfit them for acceptance of anv 

Liberalism ... r ... , r . . ' 

doctrines insusceptible of rigid demonstration from the scien- 
tific standpoint. This requirement of hard and fast evidence, appealing 
directly to the senses, and discarding all reliance upon the ideal or upon the 
broad consensus of ancient belief, has no doubt been carried too far, and 
has yielded a narrowness of outlook which will be replaced by broader con- 
ceptions as psychological science develops. That it exists now, however, 
cannot be denied, and its adherents constitute a very large and influential 
body. Yet it must be said that science and religion, for a time widely 
separated, are growing together, and that in all probability the final outcome 
of modern thought and research will be an alliance between these two great 
forces, a religion which science can accept and a science in full accord with 
religious views and principles. 

If we now turn aside from religion as a whole, and consider only its 

ethical side, it is to find an immense advance within the nineteenth century. 

The standard of right conduct may not have risen, but the 

The Movement sen t; men t of human sympathy and of the brotherhood of man- 
in Ethics 111 

kind has very greatly developed, and human charity and 

fellow feeling, a century or two ago largely confined within the limits of a 

nation or a city, are now coming to embrace all mankind. 

There has been a ereat amelioration in manners and customs within 

the century, a great decrease in barbarity and cruelty. A few examples will 

suffice to point this out. The barbarous practices in regard to child labor which 

existed in 1800 and much later have often been depicted in lurid colors, the 

selfish greed of employers giving rise to a "massacre of the innocents" as 



THE AMERICAS' CHURCH 611 

declared and even more cruel in its methods than that of the time of Christ. 

Thousands of children in the days of our grandfathers wei 

simply tortured to death in dark and dank mines or eloomy Child Labor in 

1 J o . Factories 

ind unhealthy workshops, at an age when they should have 
»een alternating between the useful confinement of the schools and the 
healthful freedom of the playgrounds and the fields. 'This state of affairs 
lappUy no longer exists, and in the present condition of public sentiment 
:ould not be reproduced. The world has grown decidedly beyond the level 
Df such heartless cruelty. 

The development of sympathy has not confined itself to a redress of 
ihe wrongfs of children, hut has made itself manifest in attention to the 
wrongs of workmen as a whole, factor)- inspection having put an end to 
nany unhealthful and oppressive conditions formerly iling, and sa 

:housands of workmen from being p I in the midst of their daily 

abors. And not only human hem dumb animals, have been re-ached 

3y the awakened sympathy oi modern communities. A century ago the 
loble and patient was frequently treated with the p reve ntinn of 

ltmost brutality, without a hand or a voice being raised in its Cruelty to 
lefence. This barbarity was accepted as a part of i ab- 

! and necessary order of things, and dismissed with a shrug or perhaps 
without a thought. To-day, in th< nli is, this state of 

:hings has ceased to exist. Societies for the prevention of cruelty to 
mimals keep a clo h upon the brutally inclined, and have almost 

aut an end to cruel practices which formerly prevailed without a word of pro- 
:est, domestic animals being now protected as carefully as human beii 

In no direction did the lack of kindly sentiment of a century ago 

show itself more decisively than in prison management. We do not mean 

:o say that philanthropy did not then exist, but that it was far from being 

;he activi nent it has become to-day, and was largely without efl 

jpon legislators ; the condition alike of coi ed criminals, of debtors, and 

}f those held for trial being in many cases almost indescribably horrible. 

rhe firsl tive movement towards prison reform was made by John 

Howard, in the latter part of the eighteenth century, but 

,,11 11 i ' r Prison Retorm 

3uhhc sentiment was so dulled towards the condition ot 

>risoners that the horrors painted out by him were in great m per 

nittcd to continue. The !■ ind could not he awakened to 

my active interest in the inmates of the gaols. 

When Elizabeth Fry made her first visit to the female department of 
Newgate, the city prison of London, in 1813, she found a state of affairs 
ivhose horrors words are weak to convey. The women inmates " were limited 



6iz THE AMERICAN CHURCH 

to two wards and vwo yards, an area of about one hundred and ninety-tw< 
superficial yards in all, into which some three hundred women with their chil 
dren were crowded, all classes together, felon and misdemeanant, tried anc 
untried ; the whole under the superintendence of an old man and his son 
They slept on the floor, without so much as a mat for bedding. Many wen 
very nearly naked, others were in rags ; some desperate fron 
nson iea wanr . of food, some savage from drink, foul in laneuao-e, stil 

Century ago ... ° 

more recklessly depraved in their habits and behavior. Every 
thing was filthy beyond description. The smell of the place was quite dis 
gusting." 

The condition of affairs on the men's side, unless they were able to pa] 
for better accommodations, was similar to that here described. Their treat 
ment, indeed, depended largely on the amount of money they could pay th< 
jail officials and they were fleeced without mercy. The practice of fettering 
them was so common that nearly every one wore irons, even the untriec 
being often laden with fetters, while their limbs were chafed into sores b) 
the weight of these useless instruments of torture. 

The report of the Prison Discipline Improvement Society, at as late i 
date as i S 1 8, shows the existence of an almost incredible state of things ir 
English prisons. Many of the gaols were in the most deplorable condition 
and crowded far beyond their powers of accommodation. All prisoner: 
passed their time in absolute idleness, or spent it in gambling and loose 
conversation. The debtors were crowded into the narrowest quarters con 
ceivable. Twenty men were forced to sleep in a space twenty feet long 
by six wide — accomplishing this seemingly impossible feat by "sleeping 
edgeways." In the morning the stench and heat were something terrible 
"the smell on first opening the door was enough to knock down a horse.' 
The jail hospitals were filled with infectious cases, and in one room, sever 
feet by nine, with closed windows, where a boy lay ill with fever, three othei 
prisoners, at first perfectly healthy, were found lodged. It is no wondei 
that the deadly jail fever raged as an epidemic in such pest holes, and ever 
communicated itself to the judges before whom these wretches were broughl 
for trial. 

We have by no means told all the horrors of prison life at that period, 
but will desist from giving any more of its painful details. It need scarcely 
be said that an utterly different state of affairs now exists in 
Prison Life au civilized lands, prisoners being treated as human beings in- 
stead of wild beasts ; and so warm is the feeling of public sym- 
pathy with the wretched that any of the horrors here depicted would raise 
a universal cry of deprecation in the land. Kindness is now the rule 



THE AMERICAN CHURCH 613 

in dealing with criminals of all grades, and every effort is made to supply 
them with employment, and to attend to the requirements of comfort and 

cleanliness. Prisons are rapidly developing into schools for reform, and 

with remarkable success where systems of this kind have been fully 

developed. 

The laws of a century ago were barbarous almost beyond conception 

at the present day. Capital punishment, now confined to murderers, was 

then inflicted for some twenty-five separate crimes, including forgery, coining, 

sheep or horse stealing, burglary, cutting and maiming, rick-burning, robbery, 

arson, etc. There were, in fact some two hundred capital crimes on the 

statute books, but most of these had grown obsolete. Yet such 

r , ... . ... , Capital Punish- 

a minor onence as stealing in a dwelling house was a crime m entini8oo 

punishable by hanging, and men were occasionally executed on 
the gallows for a small theft that would now subject them to only a few 
months of imprisonment. It was not until after 1830 that an amelioration 
in these severe laws began, and with such effect that the number of persons 
sentenced to death in England decreased from 458 in 1837 to fifty-six in 
1839. After 1841 the death penalty was indicted only for murder, though 
seven other crimes remained capital by law until 1861. 

The practice of public executions was another barbarous feature of the 
code, and the scenes around the gallows at Tyburn, on the occasion of the 
execution of any criminal of note, were so disgraceful that it seems in- 
credible that they could exist in any civilized land. Other 

,. r , , , , , ,. 1 .1 • ■ r 1 Public Execu- 

relics of the dark ages were the public exhibition of the tions 
bodies of the executed, and hanging: in chains on a gibbet, a 
practice in vogue until 1832. In one case mentioned, at that late date, "a 
sort of fair was held, gaming tables were set up, and cards were played 
under the gibbet, to the disturbance of the public peace and the annoyance 
of all decent people." 

It will suffice to say here that this state of affairs has been reformed 
out of existence. Executions, restricted solely to murderers, now take place 
wholly in private, and so great is the public desire to prevent suffering to 
the condemned that the first electrical execution in New York raised a cry 
of horror when it was announced that life did not cease within the few 
seconds expected, but that the power of sensation continued for perhaps a 
minute. In truth, in this instance, there was something of a hyper-sensibility 
manifested, but one of a kind creditable to human nature. 

The development of the spirit of sympathy with the poor and suffering 
is by no means confined to the instances stated, but has gained an extra- 
ordinary extension. The rapid progress of railroad and steamship com- 
34 



6i 4 THE AMERICAN CHURCH 

munication, the enormous increase in travel, and the bringing of the ends of 
the earth together by means of the telegraph wire have made of all mankind 

one great family, and the instinct of charity and benevolence 
The Spirit of reaches to the most remote quarters of the globe. Notable 

results of this feeling, of recent date, have been the efforts to 
ameliorate the suffering in India during the late famine, the war instigated 
by sympathy in Cuba, the earnest efforts to supply food to the starving in 
Porto Rico, and the fervent feeling aroused in favor of the unjustly punished 
Dreyfus. 

In regard to charity at home, the instances of it are voluminous beyond 
our power to record. Hospitals, asylums, institutions of benevolence 
of the most varied character, have been everywhere instituted, alike in Europe 
and America, mainly through public donations, and there is no form of 

want or suffering which is not met by some attempt at allevia- 
The Growth of t j Homes for the afflicted of every kind are rising: in all 

Chanty , . . } . & 

directions ; charity is organized and active to a degree never 
before seen ; the bettering of the condition of the poor by improved resi- 
dences, methods of recreation and instruction, and other acts of aid and 
kindness is actively going on, and in a hundred ways benevolence is striving 
to lift man from want and degradation into comfort and advanced conditions. 
What is known as altruism, the sentiment of fellow feeling, is, 
in part, coining to be one of the active conditions of the age, and 
is among the most promising signs of the times. Selfishness, indeed, is 
abundantly prevalent still, yet altruistic feeling is rapidly on the increase, and 
gifts for benevolent purposes of all kinds are becoming remarkably abundant. 
Hundreds of instances might be named, but we shall confine ourselves to 
one, Andrew Carnegie's wise and kindly devotion of the income of his great 
fortune to the founding of public libraries, than which nothing could serve 
better to bring man into a condition of mind which will prevent him from 
becoming a willing object of charity. 

Certainly the Golden Rule is bearing fruit in these later days, and men 

are widely doing unto others as they would wish to be done by. The old, 

An Advanced narrow idea of patriotism is being replaced by a growing senti- 

Spirit of ment of the brotherhood of all mankind, and altruism is mak- 

i ing its way upward through the dense mass of selfism which 

has so long dominated the world. It is still only in its pioneer stage, but the 

indications of its growth are encouraging, and we may look forward with 

hope to a day in which it will become the leading influence in the social 

world, and selfishness lose its "long and strong hold upon the heart of man. 



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CHARLES HADDON SPURGF.OX FREDERICK W. FARRAR 

WRITERS OF RELIGIOUS CLASSICS 



CHAPTER XLII. 
The Dawn of the Twentieth Century. 

THE nineteenth century saw the modern world in its making. At its 
opening the long mediaeval era was just ceasing to exist. The 
French Revolution had brought it to a sudden and violent termina- 
tion in France, and had sown the seeds of the new- ideas of equality and 
fraternity and the rights of man widely over Europe. In the new world a 

great modern nation, instinct with the most advanced ideas _, NI . 

b ... . . riie Nineteenth 

of liberty and justice, had just sprung into existence, a nation Centuryand 

without royalty or nobility, and whose leaders wt-vc. the the Era of 

, ..... . . . Medievalism 

chosen servants, not the privileged masters, ot the people. 

This grand political revolution, with which the century began, was 
paralleled with as notable an industrial revolution. The invention of the 
steam engine had brought to an end the mediaeval system of industry. 
The old, individual, household era of labor, where every man could be his 
own master and supply his own capital, ceased to exist; costly labor-saving 
machines, needing large accumulations of capital, came into use ; great 
buildings and the centralization of labor 1 necessary; and the factory 

in, which has had such an immense development in the nineteenth 
century, began its remarkable car 

With the opening and progress of the nineteenth century came other 
conditions of prime importance. Invention, which first became active near 
the end of the preceding century, now flourished until its _. _ 

1 & - ' . The Century's 

results seemed rather the work ol than of plain human Wonderful 

thought and work. £ , which already had made some stages of 

l*roirross 

notable triumphs, gained an undreamed-of activity and hun- 
dreds of the deep secrets ol the universe were unfolded. Discovery and 
exploration achieved surprising results. At the beginning of the century 
half the world was unknown. At its end only the frozen realms of the 
poles remained unexplored, and civilization was making its way into a hun- 
dred haunts of ancient savagery. Literature and art, while they can claim 
no works of acknowledged superiority as compared with the master pii 
of past centuries, have displayed a remarkable activity, and the number of 
meritorious books now annually issued is one of the most extraordinary 

events of the centur\ 

617 



6i8 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

Not less important is the immense progress in education. The school- 
house forms the great mile-post on the highway of progress. It is even- 
where in evidence. Free schools extend throughout the civilized world, 
and reach upward to a plane far beyond the highest level of public educa- 
tion a century ago, linking the common school with the college, and forming 
a direct stepping stone to university education, which has widened out 
with similar activity. In methods of education a marked 

rogressm advance has been made, while the text-books of to-day are 

Education _ ' 

almost infinitely superior to those of the earlier period. And 

education is turning its attention in a highly encouraging degree towards 

practical subjects and away from that incubus of the dead languages 

which was so strenuously insisted upon in the past. Man is going back to 

nature in education, observation is supplementing book knowledge, and 

experiment taking the place of authority. In short, education, with its 

handmaids, the book and the newspaper, is making its way into the 

humblest of homes, and man is everywhere fitting himself for an intelligent 

discharge of his social, industrial and political duties. 

As regards the development of the spirit of charity and human brother 
hood, it has been spoken of in the preceding chapter and does not need 
recapitulation here. Yet there is one stage of advance of which nothing has 
so far been said, but which is of high and significant importance, namely, 
the great progress made in the educational industrial and political position 
of woman. 

In the beginning of the nineteenth century education, except of the 

most elementary character, was in great measure confined to boys. In 1788 

the village fathers of Northampton, Mass., where Smith's 

t..," 1 Colleoe for women is now situated, voted "not to be at the 

of Women & 

expense of schooling girls;" and in 1792 the selectment of 
Newburyport decided that "during the summer months, when the boys 
have diminished, the Master shall receive ends for instruction in grammar 
and reading, after the dismission of the boys in the afternoon, for an hour 
and a half." The site of this schoolhouse, to which, as is believed, women 
were first admitted on this continent to an education at public expense, is 
still shown with pride to visitors. The same town established in 1803 four 
girls' schools, the first on record, to be kept six months in the year, from 
six to eight in the morning and on Thursday afternoon. 

Step by step the free school was opened to girls, and gradually institu- 
tions for the higher education of women were established, the pioneer 
college which opened its doors to the fair sex being Oberlin, in Ohio, in 
1833. The advance since then has been great, and at the opening of the 



THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 619 

twentieth century there was not a ;l I of the Alleghanies which 

denied to woman the full advantages of education, while the same was the 
case in many ol the older colleges of the East. In 1805 Matthew Vassar 
founded in Poughkeepsie, X. Y., the first college exclusively 
for women. To this is now added Smith, Wellesley and Wom en'sCol- 
Bryn Mawr Colleges, within whose doors the highest advan- 
tages ol education are to be obtained. The distinctio and 
girls in education, in short, has nearly ea I to exist in this country, and is 
in a fair way ol vanishing in Europe. 

In industrial occupation the advance of woman has been as great. A 
century ago few avenues of labor were open to them outside the household, 
and such work as was performed was miserably paid for. At present there 
is not an industry which they desire or are suited to follow from which they 
are debarred, and the last census enumerated four thousand different 
branches of employment in which women were engaged. This, 1 only 

in the lower, but in many of the higher employments. Women physicians 
are numerous, women lawyers and preachers are coming into the field, 
women professors teach in schools and colleges, and women authors have 
given us some of the b >ks of the century. 

Politically the progress, while not so great, has been encouraging. In 
the middle of the nineteenth century no woman had a right to vote, and the 
thought of woman suffrage was just being evolved. At the end of the 
century women possessed the fullest privileges of the suffrage in the four 
states of Colorado, Idaho, Wyoming and Utah, and partial suffrage in many 
oilier states, while a much wider extension of this privilege o ccupat j on and 
seemed not far distant. In many European co , and Suffrage for 

in the British colonies of Australia, New Zealand, Cape Colony, 
Canada, and parts of India, woman had won the right to vote, under various 
restrictions, for municipal and school officers. Such has been the progress 
in this direction of a half century. 

What else shall be said of the state of .affairs at the dawn of the 
twentieth century? Perhaps one of the most significant and promising 
movements of the time is that taken with the obj& t ol bringing war, which 

has nu>ed upon the earth since the primitive thus of mankind, _ 

& 1 . . .' . Peace Proposi- 

ti an end. ddm movement in this direction, singularly tionsofthe 
enough, emanated from the monarch of the most unpro- Emperor of 
gressive of civilized lands, but one whose size and power give 
prominence and influence to any proposition coming from its court. On 
August 24, 1898, Count Muravieff, foreign Minister of Russia, by order of 



620 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

the Emperor Nicholas II., handed to the representatives of foreign govern- 
ments at St. Petersburg copies of a proposition of such importance, that we 
give it below in full : 

" The maintenance of general peace and the possible reduction of the 
excessive armaments which weigh upon ail nations present themselves in 
existing conditions to the whole world as an ideal toward which the en- 
deavors of all governments should be directed. The humanitarian and 
magnanimous ideas of His Majesty the Emperor, my august master, have 
been won over to this view in the conviction that this lofty aim is in con- 
formity with the most essentia! interests and legitimate views of all the 
powers ; and the Imperial Government thinks the present moment would be 
favorable to seeking the means. 

" International discussion is the most effectual means of insuring all 
people's benefit — a real durable peace, above all, putting an end to the 
progressive development of the present armaments. 

" In the course of the last twenty years the longing for general appease- 
ment has grown especially pronounced in the consciences of civilized nations ; 
and the preservation of peace has been put forward as an object of inter- 
national policy. It is in its name that great states have concluded between 
themselves powerful alliances. 

"It is the better to guarantee peace that they have developed in pro- 
portions hitherto unprecedented their military forces, and still continue to 
increase them, without shrinking" from any sacrifice. 

" Nevertheless, all these efforts have not yet been able to bring about 
the beneficient result desired — pacification. 

" The financial charges following the upward march strike at the very 
root of public prosperity. The intellectual and physical strength of the 
nations' labor and capital are mostly diverted from the natural application, 
and are unproductively consumed. Hundreds of millions are devoted to 
acquiring terrible engines of destruction, which, though to-day regarded as 
the last work of science, are destined to-morrow to lose all their value in 
consequence of some fresh discovery in the same field. National culture, 
economic progress, and the production of wealth are either paralyzed or 
checked in development. Moreover, in proportion as the armaments of 
each power increase, they less and less fulfil the object the governments 
have set before themselves. 

" The ecomomic crisis, clue in a great part to the system of armaments 
a loutrance, and the continual danger which lies in this massing of war 
material, are transforming the armed peace of our days into a crushing 
burden which the peoples have more and more difficulty in bearing. 



7 HE DAWN OF 7 HE 7 / I EN 7 IE J J I ( ENTl 'A' Y G 2 1 

" It appears evident that if this state of things were to be prolonged it 
would inevitably lead to the very cataclysm it is desired to avert, and the 
horrors whereof make every thinking being shudder in advance. 

' To put an end to these incessant armaments and to seek the means of 
warding off the calamities which are threatening the whole world — such is 
the supreme duty to-day imposed upon all states. 

" Filled with this idea, I lis Majesty has been pleased to command me to 
propose to all the governments whose representatives are accredited to the 
Imperial Court the assembling of a conference which shall occupy itself 
with this grave problem. 

"This conference will be, by the help of God, a happy presage for the 
century which is about to open. It would converge into one powerful focus 
the efforts of all states sincerely seeking to make the great conception of 
universal peace triumph over the elements of trouble and discord, and it 
would, at the same time, cement their agreement by a corporate consecration 
of the principles of equity and right whereon rest the security of states and 
the welfare of peoples." 

This hopeful proposal did not, unfortunately, produce the result hoped 
for by its distinguished promulgator. Doubt of the honesty of the czar 
and his advisers, and mutual jealousies of the powers ol Europe, si 
in the way of an acceptance of the proposition to reduce The Peace Con- 
the enormous armaments of the great nations. N. et, despite ferenceat 
this, it was not without important results in the direction e ague 

of doing away with tin: horrors of war and bringing about the reign of 
peace upon the earth. A peace conference oi representatives of the 
nations, in accordance with the suggestion of the czar, was held at The 
Hague, the capital of the Netherlands, in the spring of (899, and resulted 
in the adoption of a scheme of international arbitration which is full of 
promise for the future, as an important step in the direction of settling 
international disputes in the high courts of the nations instead of on the 
bloody held of war. It proposes to adopt in regard to the nations the prin- 
ciple long since in vogue in regard to their people, that of the legal in 

place of the violent redress of wrongs and settlement ol dis- 

r , . , . " . , 1 r 1 1 The Court of 

putes. A permanent court oi arbitration is to be 1 ished, Arhitratfon 

composed ol mm amply competent to deal with the questions 
likely to come before them, and enjoying the public confidence, to deal with 
national disputes which previously had no other ready arbiter but the sword. 
There is, it is true, no legal obligations upon nations to submit their differ- 
ences of opinion to this tribunal, but there is a high moral obligation, 



622 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

whose force is sure to grow as the years pass on, and in the establishment 
of this court we have the most promising step yet taken towards the aboli- 
tion of the barbaric custom of war. 

With the question of the development of the peace sentiment comes 
that of the advance of industry, which has been one of the most important 
results of nineteenth century progress. This, as already indicated in these 
pages, has made an enormous advance within the century, the invention of 
labor-saving machinery having so enhanced man's powers of production that 
the results of each person's labor is very much greater than that of a cen- 
tury ago. Where slow hand processes then widely prevailed, now the whirr of 
wheels, the intricate play of almost human-like machines, 

al > or having which need the eve rather than the hand of the mechanic, 
Machines 7 

turn out products in astonishing profusion and phenomenal 

cheapness, while the "man with the hoe" of the past is everywhere making 
way for the man with the machine. 

The rate of progress in this direction has been well shown in the suc- 
cessive fairs of the nations, of which, as we have already stated, the first was 
held in Paris in the first year of the century, while the last was held in 1900, 
the closing year of the century. Between these two dates a large number of 
fairs, international and national, have been held in Europe and America, each 
surpassing its predecessor in size and in the variety and originality of its 
exhibits, and each showing new and important steps of advance. It was the 
middle of the century before the ideas of mankind expanded to the concep- 
tion of an international exhibition, or "world's fair," the first of which was 
held in London in 185 1. Since then many others on this 

extended scale have been held, the first in the United States 
positions . ' 

being the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia in 1876. The 
Columbian Exposition, which followed at Chicago in 1893, was full of 
indications of great progress in the intervening seventeen years, especially 
in the department of electricity, which had made a remarkable advance in 
the interval. Still more significant, as showing the vast industrial progress 
of the United States, was the National Export Exposition at Philadelphia 
in 1S99, a display of commercial products significant of the great develop- 
ment of American commerce in the final decade of the century, and justly 
held in the city which had established the first great commercial museum in 
the world. 

As indicative of the progress in American commerce, a few statistics 
may be of importance. In 1873 tne exports of the United States amounted 
to $522,479,922, a sum surpassed by that of the imports, which reached 
$642,136,210. In 1892 the exports had increased to $1,030,278,148; the 



THE DAWN OF THE TVSEN7IETH CENTURY 623 

fmports reaching $827,402,462. In 1898 the total exports ! the 

great sum of $1,231,482,330; while the imports fell to a lower figure than 
in 1873, the total i S6 16,050,654, almost exactly one half the sum of 

the exports. It must further be said that these exports are Development of 
no longer predominately agricultural, as in the earlier period, American 
but that the mechanical products of the United Stales are being Commerce 
sent abroad in a constantly increasing ratio. And a significant fact in this 

ion is that of our growing sum of exports to England herself, long the 
dominant lord of manufacture and commerce. This is strikingly indicated 
in the shipment of locomotives for use on English railroads, and of iron 
bridges for English use by the British authorities in Egypt, the rapidity and 
cheapness with which American workshops can turn out their products 
being the ruling elements in this remarkable diversion of trade. 

The progress in other fields of hum. m endeavor, as indicated at the 
dawn of the twentieth century, has been equally pronounced. Science, for 
example, manifests a wonderful activity, and displays results 
of bewildering variety and great importance ; while- the ™£ ress in 
rapid and varied applications of scientific discoveries to 
useful purposes is one of the most significant signs of the age. Striking 
recent examples of this ha\ the Rbntgen ray and wireless telegraphy. 

Politically the world has been by no means at rest during- the century. 
In 1800 despotisms, of greater or less rigidness, controlled most of the 
countries of the world. The republic of the United Netherlands had been 
overthrown, that recently established in France was sinking under the 
autocracy of Napoleon, and the small mountain-girdled republic of Switzer- 
land alone remained. Beyond the sea, this was matched by a new republic, 
that of the United States, at thai time imall and of little importance in the 
councils of the world. In 1900 a vast. change manifested itself. The whole 
double continent of America was occupied by republics, 
Canada being practically one under distant supervision, Evolution 
France had regained its republican institutions, and ("Treat 
Britain had all the freedom of a republican form of government. Through 
all Western Europe autocracy had vanished, constitutional governments 
having succeeded the absolutism of the past, and the only strongholds of 
autocracy remaining in Europe Russia and Turkey, in both of which 

the embers of revolution were smouldering, and might at any moment burst 
into flame. 

These are not the only significant signs of progress which present 
themselves to us at the dawn of the twentieth century. In truth, in a 
hundred directions the world has been equipping itself for the new century, 



624 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

which seems to have before it a destiny unequalled in the history of the 
world. It is of special importance to observe how prominent the Anglo- 
Saxon peoples have been in the great advance which we have chronicled. 
Great Britain, and, following in her footsteps, the United States, have 
occupied the position of the leading manufacturing and commercial nations 
of the world. The contracted boundaries of the British Islands long since 
proved too narrow to contain a people of such expanding enterprise, and 
they have gone forth, " conquering and to conquer," settling and developing, 
Great Develop^ until, at the beginning of the twentieth century, the empire of 

ment of Great Great Britain and its colonies covered an area of 11,336,806 
square miles, inhabited by 381,037,374 human beings. This 
area is nearly one fourth that of the habitable land surface of the earth, 
and its population quite one fourth of all mankind. The East Indian 
possessions of this great empire are larger than all Europe without Russia, 
and the North American ones, if their water surface be included, are larger 
than the whole of Europe. 

The other nations which have made a great advance in territory are 
Russia, with its 8,644,100 square miles of territory, and the United States 
with its 3,602,990. But in both the latter cases these are compact terri- 
Territorial tories, held not as colonies, which at any time may break 

Progress of loose, but as integral parts of the national domain. This is 
particularly the case in the United States, whose territory 
is inhabited by a patriotic and largely homogenous population, and is not 
made up of a congeries of varied and dissatisfied tribes like those of Russia. 
The remaining great territorial nation is France, which, with its colonial 
acquisitions, covers 3,357,856 square miles of territory. But France her- 
self is only 204,177 square miles in extent, and her immense colonial 
dominions in Africa are held by so weak and uncertain a tenure as to count 
for little at present in the strength of the nation. 

A significant fact, in respect to the recent proposition to establish a 
universal language, is that the English form of speech, spoken in 1801 by 
20,000,000 people, is now used by 125,000,000. Russian comes next, with 
Probable Future 90,ooo,ooo, German with 75,000,000, French with 55,000,000, 

of English Spanish with 45,000,000, and Italian with 35,000,000. The 

pe * rate of increase in the use of English has far surpassed that 

of any other language, and it is said that two-thirds of the letters that pass 

through the post-offices of the world are written and sent by people who 

speak this cosmopolitan tongue. 

This immense advance of the English form of speech is full of signifi- 
cance. If it goes on, the question as to which is to become the dominant 



THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 625 

Emguage of the world will settle itself by a natural process, and the- n< 
sity oi inventing a special form of speech will be obviated. English is 
to-day tin chiel commercial language of the world, and is fast becoming 
the polite tongue of Europi mi held a century ago by French. By 

til* end of the twentieth century it may will have become the only langu; 
; les their own which tin- peoples of the earth will find it necessary to 
learn. And its marked simplicity of grammatical form adapts it to 
destiny beyond any other of the prominent languages of mankind. 

To return to the subject under consideration, that of nineteenth 1 
tury progress, it may be claimed as due to several influences, materially to 
the extended use of the forces oi nature in mechanical proo in which 

it went far beyond any of the ear nturies ; scientifically to the rapid 

extension of observation and the vast co n ol facts. While influences Aid- 

there was no superior faculty of generalization, this accumula- ins Deveiop- 
tion of scientific facts addeil greatly to the probability of the men 
theoretical conclusions thence derived. Again, this activity in investigation, 
ind the great increase of the numbers engaged in it, are legitimate results 
Df the extension of education, and in a large measure of the replacement of 
Classical In scientific instruction. The progress in ethical sentiment is doubt- 
less largely due to the same cause, that of educational development. This 
lias gone far to dispel the cloud of ignorance which formerly hung heavily 
bver the nations, to ripen human intelligence, to broaden man's outlook, 
.0 extend his interest far beyond the range of his immediate surroundings, 
and, by increasing his information and widening his mental grasp, to 
develop his sympathies and enhance in him the sentiment of the universal 
arothcrhood of mankind. 

The intense activity of the human mind in those late days, and the 
quickness with which men take practical advantage of any new suggestion 
:>f workable character, are strikingly exemplified in an example that is well 
>vorth relating. In the famous sociological novel by Edward Bellamy, 
entitled " Looking Backward," in which the author describes an id 
:ommunity placed at a date near the end of the twentieth century, he 
aictures a number of advanced conditions which he evidently hopes will 
ixist at that coming period. One of these is a newspaper on a new type, 
1 spoken instead of a written paper. By aid of telephone connections 
■unning in all directions, the events of the da)- in all parts of the world 
iri- to be "phoned" to subscribers in their homes, while great orations, 
heatrical entertainments, concerts, etc.. m enjoyed without leaving 

heir rooms. 



626 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

Whether suggested by this imaginative picture or not, it is said tha: 
something of this kind has been already introduced, a century in advance 
of its appointed time. We are told that the city of Budapest, Hungary] 
has had for several years a spoken newspaper named the Tclepliouc Gazette] 
in which all the news of the day are transmitted by telephone to the 
subscribers, who are constantly growing in numbers. It has a corps of forty 
reporters and literary men for the collecting and preparing of material, and 
sends its news to clubs, restaurants, cafes, public and private residences, the 
hours of publication beginning at 8.30 a.m., and continuing without interrup- 
tion until 11 p.m. Each hour is devoted to some special 

A Te ep one c l ass G f news, begfinnintr with telegraphic dispatches from 
Newspaper ... . . 

abroad, following with local and provincial news, etc., while 

at 8 p.m. there are given concerts, lectures, recitations, or other forms of 

instruction or entertainment. 

We have hitherto dealt solely with the progress of the nineteenth 

century. Now, standing like Bellamy at the dawn of the twentieth, it may 

be well to take a long look ahead, and strive to trace some stages of the 

probable progress of the coming time, looking forward from this summit 

of the ages and statine what this outlook into the dim and distant future 

brings to our eyes. 

Before making this effort there is one thing that needs to be said. 

The progress of the nineteenth century, great as it has been in various 

directions, must be considered as confined within comparatively narrow limits 

of space, its effects rapidly diminishing as we pass into the remoter lands 

of semi-civilization and barbarism. The United States, Western Europe, 

Limits of Nine- anc ^ such British colonies as Canada, Australia, and Cape 

teenthCen- Colony have been the seats of most active progress; Span- 

tury Progress j^ America, Russia, and Southeastern Europe have played 

secondary parts in this movement ; Asia, with the exception of Japan, has 

taken very little part in it ; and Africa almost no part at all, except in a 

few of its European settlements. 

This is one of the important directions in which we may look for a 

declared exercise of twentieth century activity, that of the planting of the 

results of recent civilization in all the regions of the earth. This work, as 

above said, has been done in Japan, whose people have responded with 

Progress in wonderful alacrity to the touch of the new civilization. In the 

China and great empire of China the response has been much less en- 

Hindostan couraging, not from lack of intellectual activity in its people, 

but from self-satisfaction in their existing institutions and culture. At the 

close of the nineteenth century, however, this resistance to the thought 



THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 627 

id mechanical inventions of the West was rapidly giving way, and doubt- 
ssom- ol the triumphs of the twentieth century will be 1 ivenation of 

hina, which we may look to see rivalling fapan on the path of progn 

Of the other great centre of intellectual activity in Asia, the populous 
nd of Hindustan, its progress is likely to depend far more on its British 
terlords than on the people themselves. While as mentally a< I the 

hinese, the Hindoos are far less practical. The Chinaman is native! 
an of business, and needs only to be convinced that some- new method i 
i his advantage to take active hold of it. The Hindoo is a dreamer, 
markably lacking in the business instinct, and is so deeply imbued with the 
icient religious culture of his land that it will not ho easy to rouse him 
om the fatalistic theories in which his whole nature ped. National 

■ogress in that land must be the work of British energy, but it has already 
ade such marked advance that India may be trusted to wheel into line 
ith the West in the new century. 

The future oi the remainder of the world is less assured. The slow 
linking peoples of the remainder of Asia, the fanatical populations of 
[ohammedan lands, the negroes of Africa, the natives of brazil and l'ata- 
jnia, the inhabitants of the islands of the Pacific, the peoples A monjr the 

the tropics in general, all arc likely to act as brakes upon Duiu.Minded 
e wheels of progress, and the "white man's burden " with 
iese tribes and races during the twentieth century is certain to prove an 
duous one. 

Yet it is not well to be too pessimistic in regard to this problem. It 
ust be remembered that the work of the nineteenth century in these kinds 
is been largely one of discovery. The labor of settlement and develop- 
ent has only fairly begun ; what the results will be it is n lict. 

o make thinkers of these dull-minded savages and barbarians will perha 
! the work of many centuries. To make workers of them is a far easier 
sk, and civilized processes may be active in all these lands long before the 
itions are in condition to appreciate them. One method of solving the 
■oblem is already under way. In the Hawaiian Islands the native population 
rapidly disappearing and being replaced by a new one. In New Zealand 
has in great measure disappeared and British immigrants have taken its 
ace. The natives are diminishing in numbers elsewhere, as in Australia, 
he problem of civilization in many of the new lands is likely to be solved 

this easy way. But in the thickly settled countries this radical sola- 
in of the problem is not to be looked for, and the white man has he- 
re him the burden of lifting these unprogressive populations into a 
gher state. 



628 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

To come back to the question of the general advance of the world! 

during the twentieth century, we find ourselves facing a difficult and! 

varied problem. That the great progress of the nineteenth century] 

will be continued cannot well be questioned, but the directions this 

_ .... . progress will take is far from easy to decide. In some of its 
Conditions of l & _ ' 

Twentieth phases progress seems approaching its limiting point, in others 

Century j ts rapidity is likely to decrease, while in still others it may 

Development . . , , T . . ..... 

be enormously enhanced. It is by no means improbable that 

the development of human institutions" during the century at hand will be 
in quite different lines from those of the century just closed, less mechan- 
ical perhaps and more moral, less scientific and more philosophical, less 
political and more industrial, less laborious and more artistic. 

In some branches of invention and discovery we seem approaching a 
termination. It is not easy to see, for instance, how telegraphy can advance! 
in the future as it has in the past. Its powers seem nearing theirs 
ultimate measure of ease and rapidity. Yet it is dangerous to predict.; 
Here at the end of the century comes wireless telegraphy, with untold 
powers. And by its side appears telepathy, mental telegraphy, — the direct 
action of mind upon mind in a. manner analogous to that of telegraphing 
without wires — of which as yet we know little, yet which may have in it 
great possibilites of development. 

Other discoveries which seem approaching their ultimate condition are 
telephony, photography, illumination, and apparently labor-saving machinery 
in some of its fields, since the performance of some machines 
inn ions o a pp ears to have practically reached perfection. Transporta- 
tion may well be one of these. The rapidity of railroad 
travel will, no doubt, be increased, yet natural limitations must check its 
indefinite increase. The same may be said in regard to steamship travel, it 
appearing that any great future increase of speed must be at an increased 
ratio of cost so considerable as to bring development in this direction to a 
speedy termination. 

Of course, we are speaking only from our present point of view. It is 
quite possible that some new and luminous conceptions may break down 
the bars which now appear to be erected and open the way for new progress 
in all these directions. Yet it seems safe to assert, as a general principle, 
that development in any one direction can go on only unto a certain point, 
and that the limitations of nature must check it at that point. 

We cannot, indeed, well conceive of a greater activity of invention 
and a more rapid unfoldment of new processes than we. have had before us 
in the nineteenth century. But an equal activity may long continue. While 



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632 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

invention appears to have yielded practically perfect results in some fields, i 
great imperfection exists in others, and in these the minds of inventors] 
Probable Lines nave st ih abundant room for exercise. Thus while the bicycle 
of Future seems almost to have attained perfection, the automobile is 

c ,vl y only in its pioneer stage and may be capable of extraordinary 

improvement. It is quite possible that the horse may in the near future 
end his long career as man's chief instrument of carriage and traction. ' 
Navigation of the air is still in embryo, but it may in time supplant travel 
on land and sea. 

The possibilities in these and some other directions seem immense. At 
the beginning of the nineteenth century wood was the chief fuel, and had 
in great measure to serve the needs of household and workshop. At the 
dawn of the twentieth century coal had taken its place, and the forest had! 
been replaced by the mine. We look back with pity, not unmixed with con- 
tempt, on the slowness of our ancestors, slaves to the axe and the firebrand. I 
Our descendants of a century hence may look back with like feelings upon 
us, and marvel how we could content ourselves with delving in the deep 
rocks of the earth's crust for fuel when far more abundant and useful 
resources lay everywhere about us. 

We are beginning to perceive, somewhat dimly still, the immensity and! 
inexhaustibility of these powers and are prospecting among them with thel 
footsteps of pioneers. The powers of falling water have long been em- 
Employment of ployed, but only recently has it been discovered that they 
the Forces of could be conveyed to a distance by means of the electric con- 
ductor and applied to motors for the movement of machinery. 
The electric plant at Niagara Falls is the greatest nineteenth century install 
lation in this direction. Thousands of such plants may be installed in the 
near future, and the flowing currents of electricity yield light, heat and 
power in a profusion and with a cheapness that will quite throw coal out of 
the race, and release the slaves of the mine from their age-old fetters. 

Falling water is only one of these sources of natural power. The 
tidal rise and fall of the seas is another. The movement of the winds is a 
third. The vast heat contents of the sunlight is a fourth. The variable 
and periodical character of these is capable of being overcome by methods 
of storing energy, electrical or other, already somewhat developed and 
doubtless capable of much further development. 

This is one of the most promising directions that appear before us for 
the exercise of twentieth century invention. Yet, despite this and other 
fields of inventive activity, what we have said appears to hold good, that( 
one by one each of the varied lines of invention will reach its ultimatum, 



THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 633 

and gradually the activity of man in this direction decrease. While the 
twentieth century may be as active in the development of mechanism as the 
nineteenth has been, it seems unlikely to be more so, and in succeeding 
centuries, inventive activity must decline for want of fields in which to exer- 
cise itself. 

In some other fields of mental activity a similar slackening of energy 
may appear. Science has been as active as mechanics in the century just 

closed, but in some of its fields of exercise an approach towards 

.... . , .-.. ... , Possible De- 

a limiting point seems evident. Observational science has clinc in jvie- 

been phenomenally busy, and the multitude of facts collected chanical and 

has been extraordinarily great ; so great indeed that in some Scientific 

. . . . Progress 

lines the facts remaining to be observed have become limited. 

Such is the case in zoology and botany. The species of animals and plants 

are by no means all known, but only the inconspicuous and those existing in 

lands yet unexplored remain to be discovered. There is much room for 

work still in this field, but future labors must be more difficult and results 

less abundant. The same can be said of several other fields of scientific 

observation, such as chemistry, mineralogy, anatomy and physiology, and 

others that could be named. Doubtless there is still large room for obser- 

vation, but it must be in the finer and less evident domains of science, the 

surface facts having Urn largely gathered in. In theoretical science great 

progress has also been made by such men as Copernicus, Kepler, Newton, 

Young, Darwin and a host of others. But many important problems remain 

to be solved, and human thought may profitably be exercised in this direction 

for a long time to come. 

Yet it may be that the progress of the twentieth century will be 
directed most largely towards fields of research or improvement which have 
been secondary considerations, or have made only partial advance, in the 
century we have been considering. These will perhaps be intellectual 
rather than physical in character, and the advance social rather than material. 
Man has been struggling actively with inanimate substances NewLlnesof 
ami physical forces and adapting them to his ends. There Mental 
lie before him the world of the animate and the forces of society 
and the intellect, to be treated with similar activity. The political, moral, 
educational, and industrial problems of the day need to be taken hold of 
more decisively than ever before, and the reign of fraud, injustice, auto- 
cratic power, unnatural inequality, ignorance, unnecessary want and suffering, 
etc., brought to an end. 

There has been, as above stated, very considerable political evolution 

during the recent century, but the political condition of the world remains 
35 



634 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

very far from satisfactory, even in civilized lands, and there is abundant 

room for progress in this field. Man will not be satisfied until every 

vestige of autocratic power and hereditary rank is swept away and the 

rulers of the nations have become the chosen servants of the people, as in 

the republic of the United States, and what we may call the prime-ministry 

of Great Britain — for the so-called monarchy of that kingdom has sunk to 

pi title without power. Nor will man be satisfied until the rule of the 

r„ .^ - r. .*, political boss is similarly swept aside and honesty in office and 
Purity in Politics f . . 

in elective methods secured. This state of affairs cannot be 
reached under the present condition of public opinion. In the educational 
activities of the age political instruction is sadly needed. The masses need 
to be taught their duties and their rights. If they can once be brought to 
act together for their own interests and their own ideas of right and wrong, 
and cease to be led astray by the shibboleth of party or partisanship, there 
will be a rapid change in the state of public affairs, and men be chosen for 
official positions who can be trusted to act for the good of those who sent 
them there. 

Advance in education is not alone needed for this, but its accompani- 
ment, advance in moral standards, is equally requisite. The moral progress 
of mankind, which has been so marked during the past century, is sure to 
go on to higher levels, and with every step upwards there will doubtless be 
demanded a higher standard of action in those who are called upon to act 
as servants of the public. We have not mentioned in this work one of the 
great evils of the age, the vice of intoxication, which has done so much to 
degrade and pauperize mankind, and has been one of the leading influences 
in the retention of the unworthy in power. Legal enactments have failed 
to put an end to this indulgence in a debased appetite, but 

ie ice o public opinion is beoinning- to succeed where law has failed. 

Intemperance l L & & 

Drunkenness has ceased to be respectable, and as a result 
open intoxication among respectable people is growing more and more rare. 
At the same time the desire to be considered respectable is making its way 
downward among the people, and widening the field of its effect. Drinking 
in moderation is prevalent still. Drinking in excess is plainly on the 
decrease. And with every step in this direction the self-respect of the 
people must grow, pauperism decrease, and an enlightened conception of 
public duty develop. Whatever else the twentieth century brings about, 
we may reasonably look for a great revolution in the political status of the 
world. 

There is one farther field of twentieth century progress to be reviewed, 
the industrial. The nineteenth century has reached its end leaving this 



THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 635 

great domain of human interests in a highly unsatisfactory condition. 
The progress of labor during the century under review has been considered 
in a preceding chapter, and brought down to its existing state. | n( j ustr yj n the 
What the character of its progress will be in the twentieth Twentieth 
centur) is open to conjecture. While nothing concerning it entur y 
can be stated positively, some deductions from the present condition of 
things may be made. 

Mankind for some thousands of years past has been subjected to 
tyrannies of various kinds, and in particular to those ol physical force, ot 
mental influence, and of material possessions; the first controlling him by 
the power of the sword, the second by that of superstition, the third by that 
of his daily needs. The control of the first two of these has Physical Force, 
long been rapidly slipping away. That of the autocrat of Superstition 

word has vanished in the most advanced lands, and the and Money 
political equality of all men is there assured. That of the tyrant of the mind 
has similarly vanished in these lands and is diminishing everywhere, liberty 
of -thought being made secure. The autocratic dominion of wealth, on the 
contrary, lias grown as the authority of its rivals has decreased, ami it stands 
to-day as the great power in the most advanced communities, it being par- 
ticularly dominant in the United Stat* 

Shall this third of the great tyrants of the world retain its supremacy? 
Shall it not in its turn be overthrown, and liberty and equality in this direc- 
tion be also attained? Certainly great progress is likely to be made in this 
direction, whatever the final outcome may be. For ages a state of protest 
against the control of the tyrants of man's body and mind prevailed. This 
state now exists in regard to the money power, the industrial classes of all 
lands struggling bitterly against it, and combining with a view to its over- 
throw. Such a state of revolt, bitter, persistent, unrelenting, indicates 
something innately wrong in the industrial situation, and cannot fail in the 
end to have its effect. We may safely look forward to an amelioration in 

lituation, even though we cannot tell how it is to be brought about. 

The extraordinary activity of productive industry within the century 
is the cause of the state of affairs which now exists. The wealth of the 
world has increased enormously, and has fallen largely into the hands of 
individuals. A century ago there was not a millionaire in our land, and few 
in any land. Now they exist by the thousands, and million- The Vast 
aires two hundred fold multiplied are not unknown. This vast Growth of 
accumulation of wealth in single hands does not satisfy its 
owners. Tiiey are eager for more, and capital is widely combining into 
great corporations for the purpose of reducing expenses, so that the cost 



636 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 

of manufacture may be decreased, and doing away with competition, so that 
prices of goods may be augmented. This is but one result of the trust 
combination. A second and highly important one is a great reduction of 
the opportunity for individual business operations, the tendency being to 
reduce the great mass of the community to the position of employees. 

This problem has been already considered in Chapter xxxviii., with the 
suggestion there made that it is apt to strengthen the force of Socialism, 
the purpose of which, as there indicated, is to put an end to individualism 
in productive enterprises, and place all workshops, stores, railroads, etc., 
under government control, to be conducted for the good of the people as a 
whole, not for that of individual capitalists. A step in this direction some- 
what widely taken in Europe, is the control of railroads and telegraphs by 
Nat'onal and the government. Another step is the control of all municipal 
Municipal functions, including street railways, electric lights, etc., by 

the city authorities. The latter system, adopted by many 
European cities, is being actively advocated in the United States, and is 
gathering to its support a vigorous public opinion which promises to be 
strong enough in the end to achieve its purpose. 

Abroad the forces of Socialism are organizing themselves actively, and 
are gaining a political strength vigorous enough to create much alarm in 
the ruling powers. Whether this cult of Socialism has come to stay, and 
has in it sufficient force of growth to give it an eventual supremacy, or 
whether it is to be classed with the many popular movements which have 
played their parts for a time and passed away, is not for us to say, only the 
arbitrament of time can decide. 

We might consider the question of the twentieth century progress from 
other points of view, such as agriculture, architecture, household art, litera- 
ture, medicine, surgery, social relations, etc., though in doing so we should 
be considering simply developments of existing conditions. Perhaps the 
most promising line of progress is in experimental psychology, the study 
of the brain and nervous system, the instruments of the mind from 
the scientific point of view, in distinction from the old, theoretical psy- 
chology. This, the latest of the sciences, has recently 

Th N 

P "holo begun its development, and is full of promise of important 

discoveries concerning the conditions of mental phenomena. 
It must suffice here, however, to refer to it as one of the lines in which 
science has before it a broad field of research, and with this mention we shall 
bring to an end the long journey we have made in this work through the 
stirring history and marvelous events and discoveries of the wonderful 
nineteenth century. 



CHAPTER XI. I II. 

The End of the Century and Its Events 

AS the nineteenth century came in to the roll of the: drum and the 
of the cannon, so it is going out to the same terror-inspiring sounds. 

People have dreamed of a coming time in which the war drum shall 
beat no longer ami the banner of battle shall be furled. No doubt this 
happy time is coming, but it is still afar, and the Peace Conference of 
seems almost to have I I the dogs of war. There is fighting in Si 

Africa, fighting on the Guinea coast, fighting in the Philippines, fightino in 
Colombia, fighting in China, and threats of war in m till; 

war vessels are building, armies drilling, workshops busy in making imple- 
ments of war. and the- labors ol death tread close on the heels of the 
labors of life. 

So swift has been tiie march of events that we could not keep pace with 
it in the foregoing chapters; momentous things happening even while we 
were writing, and it has become necessary to take up the 

ends of these dropped threads and carry them forward to the - Swift March ot 

Progress 

century's end. Here we can only offer the hope that the war 

nay be furled before the twentieth century comes in, and peace smile 
propitious upon its advent. 

The war of [898 with Spain lift tin- United States with se\ 
unsettled affairs upon its hands. Porto Rico and Hawaii had to be brought 
under the sheltering folds of the flag and a system of government given 
them, Cuba had to be launched on the waters of indep ad, most 

momentous of all, the war in the Philippines had to be fought out to the 
bitter end and peace restored to that populous and fertile group of islands. 
Great Britain had her household affair to settle by stretching the: blanki 
Cape Colony over the Poor states and getting full p on of the mines 

of diamonds and gold. And all the great civilized powers of the earth were 
concerned in the attempt of China to get rid of foreigners by the summary 
process of assassination and to close once more its d ainst the world 

of the whites. These are the events with which we have now to deal, in 
order to round out the cycle of nineteenth century event 

Of the new possessions of the United the; Hawaiian Islands were 

the most easily dealt with. These islands were already under American 
control, and the affairs went on there without a break. They were given the 

637 



638 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 

government of a Territory of the United States, with no tariff fence to keep 

out their sugar and other products. This was not the case with Porto Rico. 

This island was taken in but its products were kept out, with the result that 

the people sank into destitution and misery, and many of them grew to hate 

the dominion they had at first warmly welcomed. In the end the tariff wall 

was partly broken down and prosperity showed some signs of 

Hawaii, Po rto coining back, but the people were far from content, to be left 
Rico and Cuba .11 \ ■ 

half in and half out of the United States. As for Cuba, it 
remained for a time a military ward of the United States, but that country 
kept its pledge of honor by inviting the Cubans to adopt a constitution for 
themselves, under which they could be safely launched upon the deep 
waters of self-government. 

At the end of 1899 an old dispute was amicably settled. For years the 
Samoan Islands had been under the joint control of Germany, Great Britain, 
and the United States, and there had been no small amount of intrigue and 
controversy. The difficulty was now settled. Germany got the islands of 
Apolu and Savaii, and the United States fell heir to Tutuila. This is a 
small island, but it contains the splendid harbor of Pago-Pago, the finest in 
the South Pacific, if not in the whole Pacific Ocean. Two other islands 
were obtained by the United States, the small island of Guam, in the 
Ladrones, which was ceded by Spain, and Wake Island, a lonely spot in the 
open ocean, which was taken in 1 S99 by hoisting the flag over it. Those 
three small islands, far removed from each other, give the United States 
valuable places of call at points thousands of miles apart in that mighty 
ocean of the East. 

Far the most valuable of all these new possessions of the great republic 

was the archipelago of the Philippines. But this multitude of rich islands 

was not to be had for the asking. Of its 8,000,000 of people, a host of those 

who had been in arms against Spain demanded their inde- 

1 ippine pendence, and the United States had not long held possession 

of Manila before it had a new war on its hands. Emilio 

Aguinaldo, the general in command of the Filipino army demanded more 

than the government at Washington was ready to grant, and as a result 

hostilities began. 

Aguinaldo had been brought from Hong Kong to Manila in an 
American vessel. On reaching there he called his old followers to arms, and 
besieged Manila on the land side while Dewey's fleet threatened it from the 
bay. After the fall of Manila Aguinaldo became hostile to the Americans. 
He said that he had been promised independence as the price of his aid. 
When he found that the United States intended to take possession of the 



THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 639 

islands, in accordance with their treaty with Spain, his hostility increased, 
and led him, in February, 1899, to make a fierce attack on the American 
outposts at Manila. 

This affair ended in the repulse of the native forces, which were driven 
back for several miles and suffered severe loss. But they were not to be 
subdued by a single defeat. Aguinaldo, who had been made president of the 
republic proclaimed by the Philippine leaders, now issued a declaration of 
war, and both sides prepared for an active campaign. This began, on the 
part of the Filipinos, in an attempt to burn the city of Manila, with the 
hope of driving out its garrison, but in which the natives were the principal 
sufferers, the fire sweeping wid( !y over their residence quarter. Vigilant 
precautions were taken by the American leaders to prevent a rem wal of this 
dangerous enterpri 

General Elwell 5. ('tis, then commander-in-chief in the Philippines, 

lost no time in putting an ami) of invasion in the field. The ad van o 

the American forces began on March 25, [S99, and on the 31st Malolos, 

Aguinaldo's capital, was occupied. This was not accomplished without 

sharp fighting. The Filipinos had thrown up earthworks at every defensible 

point, and resisted the advance with some stubbornness, though 

in every instance without effect. The Americans pushed _ e * 

■> l Campaign in 

steadily forward, driving the natives from their works with the Philippines 
resistless charges, swimming rivers in the face of a sharp 
rifle lire, anil carrying everything before them. Calumpit, the second 
Filipino stronghold, was reached ami carried near the end of April ; San 
Fernando fell soon after, and General Lawton, whose long experience in 
Indian warfare admirably adapted him to this work, made his way northward 
through the foothills and occupied San Isidro, the second Filipino capital. 

These and other successes were not gained without much hardship and 
loss of life. Marching through swampy rice-fields and thorny chapparal, 
facing well-built earthworks at every few miles, and at a hundred points 
encountering an active ami persistent enemy, the soldiers of the States found 
their task' a severe and annoying one, and their ranks were considerably 
depleted when the coining on of the rainy season, at the beginning ot July, 
put an end to active operations for several months. 

Meanwhile an effort had been made to bring the insurrectionists to 
terms by peaceful measures. A Philippine Commission, consisting of Admi- 
ral Dewey and General Otis, and the civilians Jacob G. Schurman, Dean 
Worcester, and Charles Denb, was appointed to consider ami report on 
the situation, and b y issuing a proclamation in which the 

supremacy of the United States was declared, but the natives were offered 



64 o THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 

a large measure of civil rights and local self-rule. This proclamation proved 
of no avail, so far as the insurgent forces were concerned, Aguinaldo issuing 
counter-proclamations and calling on the people to accept no terms shorl of 
full independence. 

In the summer of 1899 Admiral Dewey returned home. On the 3d 

of March he had been promoted to the grade of full admiral, an exalted 

rank which before him had been borne only by Farragut and Porter; and 

during his journey home the whole world seemed eager to do him honor. 

In his own country he met with an enthusiastic reception, the 

Dewey's people everywhere greeting him as the most heroic figure of 

Return Home ^ l : ° & . . . , 

the recent war. As a testimony 01 appreciation they pur- 
chased him a beautiful home in the city of Washington, in which, taking 
to himself a wife, the grateful recipient settled down to rest and comfort 
after his arduous labors. 

With the close of the rainy season in Luzon the war began again, now 
with a larger army on the part of the Americans, who were also pro- 
vided with a much-needed force of cavalry. The Filipinos seemed to have 
lost heart through their reverses in the spring campaign, and fought with 
less courage than before, so that by the 1st of December they were in full 
flight for the mountains, pursued by Generals Lawton and Young with cav- 
alry and scouts. Alter this date the natives had nothing that could be 
called an army in the field. The forces under Aguinaldo were broken and 
dispersed, and were capable only of guerilla warfare, which, though annoy- 
ing, seemed likely only to delay the period of complete pacification. During 
the succeeding period there were frequent collisions with detached bands, in 
one of which the brave Lawton was shot dead. In the summer of 1900 
President McKinley issued a proclamation of amnesty, of which many of the 
natives in arms took advantage. Aguinaldo, however, refused 

The Death tQ su b m ; t an j t h e CO stly guerilla warfare went on. Hope- 

of Lawton ' ° , * 

less as the cause of the Filipinos was held to be, they were 

not yet ready to submit, and the affair seemed as if it might be protracted 
for months to come. 

A somewhat similar state of affairs existed in South Africa, where the 
British-Boer war appeared likely to outlive the century. Here, too, organized 
resistance had largely degenerated into guerilla warfare, which was greatly 
aided by the broken and hilly character of the country. Lord Roberts, 
after establishing himself in Pretoria, had spread his forces widely out, with 
the hope of taking in a net the scattered commandos still in arms in the 
Orange River Free State, before devoting himself to Paul Kruger and his 
fellows in the northern Transvaal. But he found it much easier to set his 



THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 641 

net than to catch his fish. The liners proved extraordinarily mobile. 
1 hough some oi them sun !. a strong force continued in the field, and 

not only defied the British but succeeded in capturing detached bodies of 
them. General De Wet, their leader, showed a remarkable ability in this 
kind of warfare, anil escaped with ease and alertness every trap set for him, 
while striking his foes at unexpected points. 

Meanwhile, Kruger and the Transvaal force-, remained in the hill coun- 
try to the north, still defiant, and likely to give Lord Roberts no small 
trouble when he should be at liberty to attend to them. Though it was 
announced to the world that the struggle was practically at an t-nd and the 
South African republics had ceased to exist, the indications 
were that the British empire hada costly and troublesome war Guerilla War 
still before it, and that the twentieth century would dawn before Transvaal 
the Boers were subdued. The situations in the Transvaal and 
the Philippines were thus closely analogous, and the Anglo-Saxons of the East 
and the West alike were ending the century with an annoying and protracti d 
guerilla war on hand, the final outcome of which could not be foreseen. 

As the summer of iqoo approached there appeared indications of 
trouble in a new quarter, which threatened to overshadow these minor oper- 
ations and involve the whole civilized world in a conflict which might 
assume gigantic proportions. The vast empire of China, with its 400,000,- 
000 of population, suddenly showed a violent hostility to foreigners, which 
endangered the lives not only of the missionaries scattered far and wide 
throughout the land, but even of the representatives of the Powersal 1'ekin— 
high dignitaries whose lives and liberty are held sacred by all civilized 
nations alike in peace and war. 

We must pro back and trace the course ol events leading to this lament- 
ed o 

able state ol affairs. For many years Europe had been heaping up "vials 

of wrath" in China. In the- "opium war," the French and . 

1 How Eng.and 

English advance on Peking, and other hostile relations of and France 

China with the powers, that ancient nation had been Treated 
... ... . .,. ,. ir- China 

treated with an injustice and a supercilious disregard of its 
rights and susceptibilities which could not fail to produce a widespread 
feeling of indignation. The pride of China lay in its ancient learning, 
it had never been a military nation and it was quite incapable of main- 
taining itself against these fighting foreigners, but it was abundantly capable 
of indignation for affronts to its dignity, and it was growing evident to far- 
seeing critics of world affairs that the time might come when the densely 
peopled old nation would turn on its enemies and exact ample retribution 
for its insults and injuries. 



642 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 

The turn in the tide came with the Japano-Chinese war. This had the 
double effect of showing the incapacity of the Chinese to cope in war with 
modern powers, and of vividly demonstrating to themselves these defects. 
The logical result followed. The nations of Europe, perceiving the weak- 
ness of the ancient empire, began to descend upon it like wolves upon their 
prey. What they did has been stated in an earlier chapter. Russia, Eng- 
land, Germany, and France alike took forcible possession of ports and terri- 
tory of the feeble old Oriental realm, and the newspapers were full of threats 
of a partition of the whole empire between the land-hungry nations, in utter 
disregard of the ethical aspect of the question. 

While this spirit of greed was displayed by the European nations, the 
statesmen of China were awakening to a perception of the urgency of the 
situation and the need of taking radical steps if they wished to save their 
empire from a total collapse. A spirit of reform began to show itself. 
Railroads had long been practically forbidden, but now concessions for the 
building of hundreds of miles of railroad were granted. Modern imple- 
ments and munitions of war were purchased in great quanti 
Reform in the jj es anc j European officers were engaged to drill and dis- 
Empire cipline the imperial army. European books were eagerly 

sought for, perhaps with the sentiment that they might contain 
the secret of European strength. The great nation was stirring in its sleep 
of centuries and besdnnincr to awake. 

The reformers gained the ear of the youthful emperor and infected him 
with their new ideas, with the result that radical changes were ordered in 
the administration — revolutionary ones, indeed, when attempted in a so strin- 
gently conservative nation as China. The result was one that might have 
been expected. The party of ancient prejudice and conservatism — a power- 
ful party in China — took the alarm. The empress-dowager, who had recently 
laid down the reins of power as regent, took them up again, under the sup- 
port of this dominant party, seized and practically dethroned the emperor, 
executed all his advisers upon whom she could lay hands, and restored the 
methods of the old administration in every respect except that of military 
discipline. 

This palace reaction made itself felt throughout the country. Hatred 
of foreigners, which had been growing for years in the Chinese populace, 
reached a perilous climax under this seeming sanction from the palace 
authorities in Peking, and in the spring of 1900 a murderous attack against 
the missionaries began. A secret society of Chinese athletes, known in 
English phrase as " The Boxers," rose in arms and made an onslaught upon 
the missionaries, a class of foreigners who were immediately exposed to 



THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVEA 

their attacks, and whom theyseem to have hated as virulently as the Filipinos 
hated the Spanish friars. The insurrectio id with extraordinary 

rapidity, many of the missionaries were murd nd the Boxers quickly 

appeared in multitudes in the capital, where, joined by many of the sold 
they made a violent assault on the foreign legations and put the lives of the 
ministers and their attendants in imminent peril. 

When tidings of this state of affairs i I the Western world then' 

was a wide-spread alarm. The ministers were cut off from all communica- 
tion with their governments; stories of their massacre, with 

details of terrible tortures, were sent abroad ; the murder of 

. . Outbreak 

the German .Minister and a fapai ncial was confirmed; 

there was much reason to believe that the government favored and its 
soldiers aided the Boxer hosts, and for the first time in history tl 
nations of Europe and America joined their forces in an attempt to avert 
a common danger The United States had kept apart from all seizur 
Chinese termor, md all schemes of partition of China. It contented it- 
self with demanding freedom of commerce— an " open door " to the Chinese 
market — and sedulously avoided interference with tint national affairs of 
the empire. But its minister, Edwin H. Conger, was in equal peril with those 
of other nations, and in this critical exigency it sent a hasty contingent of 
troops to China and joined the European powers in the work of rescue. 

We can give only an epitome oi the events that followed. A small 
force, made up of marines and soldiers of various nations, under Admiral 
Seymour of the British navy, made a hasty advance upon Peking. But they 
found the railroad torn up, and their route in . vith an overwhelming 

force of enemies, ami were forced to retreat, b scaping entire; destruc- 

tion. About the same time the allied fleets made an attack on the Chinese 
forts at Taku. In this the United Si 3 took no 

part, Admiral Remey declaring it to be uncalled for and un - A "akt Torts 
wise, an opinion which the succeeding appeared to sub- 

stantiate, since the Chinese government made this assault a pretext lor active 
war against the allied foro 

As an. act of reprisal, a strong I I boxers and soldiers made an 

attack on the foreign quarter of the city of Tien Tsin, lighting with a skill, 
courage and persistence which they had never shown before. They were 
well armed with ritles and cannon of the best types, which they used with 
effect, while they stubbornly resisted the efforts of the foreign forces to dislodge 
them. It needed a tierce struggle to effect this ami give the allies control of 
the city. Never before, had the Chinese fought the Europeans with such 
stubborn courage, and serious doubts of the final result began to be felt. 



644 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 

The nations hurried troops to the point of danger as rapidly as possible, 
Japan, which was in full accord with the Western powers, sending- the largest 
force. The United States sent troops from the Philippines, Great Britain 
from India, and Russia from her posts to the north; but all this took time, 
and the month of July passed before there was a sufficient force to justify a 
second advance. Meanwhile the danger of the ministers in Peking was daily 
growing more imminent and the mystery that surrounded them more pro- 
nounced. Gathered within the stout walls of the British legation, they 
fought off the ravening multitudes that clamored for their blood, while for 
weeks their people at home were in distressing doubt as to whether they 
were alive or dead. 

At length, early in August, the advance began, the army, about 16,000 
strong made up of Japanese, Russians, British, and Americans. The French 
and Germans, who were as yet in small numbers, were left on guard at Tien 
Tsin. What degree of opposition would be encountered was not known. 
There were several strongly fortified towns on the way, and there was reason 
to believe that the lowlands would be flooded from the Peiho River, along 
whose banks the march took place. The midsummer heat of the climate 
added to the difficulties of the way, and the ability of the small army to 
reach Pekin was far from assured. 

As it proved, the Chinese had shown their greatest courage at Tien Tsin, 
and their opposition to the advance of the allies was halfhearted and ineffec- 
tive. They made a strong stand at Peitsang, a native town 

The Rescue of on t ^ Q p e iho, but were driven from their works, and from that 
the Ministers . . . . . . . rr 

point the allies marched to Peking with only feeble erforts to 

check their advance. The triple-walled city was reached on the 14th of August. 

On the 15th an assault was made on several of its gates. Here there was a 

resistance, but not a very vigorous one, and before nightfall the foreign 

forces were in the streets of the populous Chinese capital, the Americans 

and British the first. Marching in haste to the legations, they had the high 

gratification of finding the beleaguered officials alive, and of rescuing them 

from a siege which had lasted for weeks, and which, in a few days more, 

would probably have ended in assassination, as their powers of resistance 

were almost at an end. 

The joy of the wearied and almost hopeless men and women of the 

legations on seeing the stars and stripes and the union jack borne side by 

side to their rescue, can be better imagined than described. There soon 

followed the banners of Russia and Japan, and as the allied troops marched 

in triumph into the legation the cheers of the troops woke a responsive 

throb in the hearts of those whose hands they clasped and drew tears of joy 



THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 645 

to eyes that had long looked only on the dread form of fear and the 
threatened horror of death by torture. The situation, thus happily ended, 
was one that had rarely, if ever, presented itself before- in the history of the 
world. 

"riie rescue of the ministers at Peking ended all the concern of the 
United States in the issue. The government had practically pledged itself 
to withdraw its troops as soon as its embassy was safe and its relations with 
China properly adjusted, whatever course the other nations might pursue. 
It had no land hunger to gratify, like its European allies, and had no 
ends to gain by remaining. In fact, it had quite a surfeit of new 
possessions in the Philippines. These distant islands were proving a 
serious trouble not only abroad but at home. A part) - in opposition to the 
policy of the administration had arisen, which accused the government of 
imperialistic purposes, and called upon it to abandon the Philippines and 
permit their people to govern themselves. 

This party grew in strength as the war dragged on into its second year 
at a serious cost in money and lives, ami by the summer of 1900 it hail 
gained such power as to make its demand the dominant issue in the 
Presidential campaign of that year. Of all the home affairs of the nations 
in the closing year of the century this campaign was the most prominent 
and important event, and the only one which here calls for 
attention at our hands. It is true, a startling affair had Anarchists 
taken place in Europe. King Humbert of Italy had been 
shot dead by an assassin, and his son, Victor Emanuel III., was now 
kin- of that disturbed land. An attempt had also been made to a 
sinate the Shah of Persia, during his visit to the Paris Exposition ol 
the closing century. The Anarchists were abroad, Europe seemed seething 
with plots of royal murder, and the monarchs trembled on their thrones. 
Hut in the broad United States the one great question at issue was that of 
obtaining a new ruler by ballot instead of by bullet, or of reseating Presi- 
dent McKinley for another four years. 

The Republican National Convention met at Philadelphia in June, and 
nominated as its candidate for President the ruling incumbent of the office, 
Willliam McKinley, and for Vice-President Theodore Roosevelt, the 
governor of New York, and the hero of the battle of San Juan. The 
Democratic National Convention met at Kansas City in July, and 
nominated for President its standard bearer of four years before, \\ illiam 
Jennings Bryan, and for Vice-President, Adlai E. Stevenson, who has 
ahead)- served one term in this honorable office. So far as the presidential 
nominees were concerned, it was a renewal of the contest of 1896, McKii 



646 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 



being again pitted against Bryan. But as regards the principles to be fought 
for, the war cries of the campaign, there was a radical change, the old issues 
of the parties largely vanishing, and new issues being presented to the alert 
minded people of the United States. 

One old issue was revived, that of the Republican insistence on the 

gold standard of coinage and the Democratic demand for " the free and 

unlimited coinage of silver at the ratio of 16 to i." But this 

issue sank in great part out of sigdit in the campaign, as did 

Campaign , •«■ , • -T i , , , i r 

of 1900 tnat ot the tarin, which had been the bone 01 contention 

between the parties during many preceding campaigns. In 
this last year of the century two distinctly new questions were presented ; 
that of the Trust, the monopolistic combination of great business concerns ; 
and that of Imperialism, the Republican administration being accused of 
the purpose of converting the republic into an empire, so far as the control 
of its new possessions were concerned. The question of the Trusts was 
only a minor issue. Both parties condemned them in their platforms. 
The great question at issue, however, was that of Imperialism versus Anti- 
imperialism, and on this the result of the campaign seemed to depend, the 
orators speaking in ringing tones in favor or denunciation of the' policy of 
the McKinley administration in this regard. 

William McKinley had come to the helm of the ship of state in 1897 i n 
a period of profound peace and advancing prosperity. But his whole term 
had been one of war and turmoil, not only in the United States but in 
various other parts of the world. The war with Spain in 1898 had been 
followed by the acquisition of new territory and the development of new 
problems. Then in 1890. and 1900 came the insurrection of the Philippines 
and the British-Boer war in South Africa ; to be followed in 1900 by the 
outbreak against foreigners in China, and the invasion of that ancient realm 
by the allied forces of all -the great powers. Such a turmoil of the nations 
could not fail to bring important political questions to the front, and of these 
the great problem in America was that of Imperialism. Anti- 
War in the imperialism expanded from the war-cry of a minor faction to 
ministration tne declared policy of one of the two great political parties 
of the country, and the main question at issue in the Presi- 
dential campaign of 1900 was whether the United States should continue 
its work of subduing the Philippine insurgents, or should be withdrawn from 
the islands and leave the natives free to govern and control themselves. 
With this issue inscribed on their banners the two parties marched for- 
ward to the great war of the ballots at the end of the nineteenth century. 

BD-1 81 



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